


Like a red lily in meadow grasses

by kieran98, KusanoSaku



Series: Beside you [6]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/F, Female Homosexuality, Geek Love, Good Slytherins, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Child Neglect, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, Inter-House Relationships, M/M, Platonic Female/Male Relationships, Ron Bashing, Slow Burn, Slytherins Being Slytherins
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-25
Updated: 2017-09-07
Packaged: 2018-01-13 18:08:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 19
Words: 53,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1236073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kieran98/pseuds/kieran98, https://archiveofourown.org/users/KusanoSaku/pseuds/KusanoSaku
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Slytherin Third Year Matilda ‘Mal’ Prewett is born the witch daughter of a Squib father and Muggle mother, by all accounts a Halfblood. Hermione Granger is the only child of dentists who strive to give her the perfect education. Mal is lonely and unwanted in her own home due to her magic and hoped to find some comfort at school only to be taunted because of her blood. Hermione is the lonely genius and a member of the so-called Golden Trio. As Ron drifts away and Harry starts to fall in love, Hermione finds her own love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by a Sapphros poem and ‘With me’ series’ hermal. Our Mafalda’s name is Matilda both of which have the meaning battle axe. So this is part of the With me universe…
> 
> Pairings: hermal [HermionexMalfalda Prewett]; heavily implied pairings drarry, snupin SiriusxCharity, adrianeville, chaise [CharliexBlaise] and deamus ect

Prologue

 

Mal’s first memory was of her mother screaming.

 

“Devil child! We must take her to the priests! They can pray it out of her.”

 

“Wait Isabel! I am surprised she has magic but we can’t do that. You see my parents were magical but I’m not. So I became part of your world, I went to Eton and got a degree from Oxford. My parents didn’t expect to have me and I was a late born, that’s why they think I have no magic.”

 

“Bryan, your parents were devil worshipers?” her mother gasped.

 

“No, they aren’t. They were born with it the same as you were born with blonde hair. I can try to see if my witch cousin will adopt her…”

 

“I don’t want her here! She’ll curse any children we have.”

 

“If that’s what you want, I’ll take her to Mary…”

 

Unwanted…

 

Her own papa wanted to give her away…

 

Matilda curled up in her crib and cried.

 

XoooooX

 

Hermione loved learning…

 

She’d read any book she could find no matter how thick.

 

Forget picture books, Hermione had read the entire dictionary when she was four.

 

She memorised all those words, and words were powerful things. She had been so happy when she found out that her school would teach them Latin and she bought every Latin book she could find eventually reading books like Winnie the Pooh in Latin with an English copy beside her. Even The Little Prince was more magical in Latin…

 

She didn’t really think she was that odd when she reached out and books jumped into her hand. After all, if Matilda from Rhode Dahl’s book could do it, why not her?

 

Until she realised mum and dad couldn’t do that. She was very careful not to be seen doing it.

 

Her eidetic memory was troublesome.

 

When she was little she was praised for being smart but when her parents’ colleagues children were studying to test into good schools they said scathing things that Hermione never had to study because she already knew it all.

 

The other children teased her mercilessly calling her big-headed, a know-it-all, brainiac and stuck-up.

 

Teachers wrote on her report card that while her grades were high that she wasn’t social and that she didn’t cooperate with others. When there were projects, Hermione always took a table in the corner and did it alone.

 

They didn’t want to work with her so why should she try to make friends? Either they just gossiped leaving her to do all the work or they spent the time making cutting remarks, so she decided she was better off alone.

 

One day she ran home and locked herself in the bathroom, she was so lonely…

 

She let out a cry of anguish; she was keening…

 

The mirror cracked, the pipe beneath the sink burst and the window shattered. As the water covered the floor and glass rained down Hermione rocked feeling so alone.

 

Was there anywhere she would be accepted? Where her intelligence would be celebrated rather than reviled?

 

She knew her parents loved her and were proud of her but it wasn’t enough…

 

Then Albus Dumbledore came into her life…

 

 


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

 

Fourth Year…

 

Hermione had tried to take all the classes she could last year but Divination was too much…

 

As interesting as Muggle Studies was, Hermione just didn’t want to continue it. She wanted to leave that world behind.

 

She loved her parents but the Muggle World had never felt like home to her…

 

Ron was different…

 

Something about finding out that Scabbers was really Pettigrew had changed him.

 

She still had Charity Burbage as a confidant, she felt so sorry for her…

 

In love with Sirius? Sirius was on the run and still threatened with the Dementor’s Kiss.

 

Snape seemed odder than ever, his behaviour was the same but his eyes were sad rather than black ice.

 

Professor Lupin had gone, saying goodbye only to Harry…

 

She wished that those two lonely people would get back together. Then maybe Snape would be happy…

 

Harry was different too; he had taken to watching Malfoy in a different way. He’d stare and then look away blushing…

 

Then again, Malfoy seemed to watch Harry the same way…

 

As Ron pulled away, Harry became closer to Neville…

 

Neville had always been isolated, never close to anyone in their year.

 

She knew he had Professor Sprout like she had Professor Burbage but that wasn’t the same as having friends.

 

How close was she to Harry really? Harry had pulled away because of Scabbers and she was so lonely but since they rescued Sirius and Buckbeak she and Harry had seemed closer.

 

Ron would brood, he waited until the last minute to do his summer homework as usual but Hermione wouldn’t help him. Not after how he treated Crookshanks, the poor boy must be so lonely without Sirius around to understand him.

 

Maybe she should look into becoming an animagus so she could talk to him…

 

Sometimes, she still felt isolated…

 

It wasn’t far to Harry probably but she still felt that way…

 

A bit out of place in her own body, shy and worried that she wasn’t pretty enough.

 

Sharing a room with girls like Lavender, Pavarti, Faye and Alice who were very pretty have given her a bit of a complex. Even if Faye rarely put in the effort being more of a hoyden then a lady as her grandmother would put it.

 

Mothers and fathers were supposed to say you were pretty, beautiful and smart but that didn’t always make it true…

 

Hermione just wanted one real friend who understood her and liked her without conditions…

 

XoooooX

 

Mal sat as far away from her Housemates as she could…

 

In a House that valued status above all else, Mal was an outcast.

 

It didn’t matter that she was the daughter of an Ancient House…

 

She was the daughter of a Squib and a Muggle, that made her the lowest of the low.

 

Some people liked reminding her of that, people like Marcus Flint and his gang Peregrine Derrick, Boyle and Cassius Warrington.

 

She hated them.

 

It didn’t matter that she had the second highest marks; she was still hampered by her blood.

 

If people like Pansy Parkinson were to be believed she was just above Squibs and Muggleborns but still unworthy of being of Slytherin House.

 

When she was home she slept in the attic and cooked and cleaned for the family. Her ‘precious’ siblings Miram and Mark weren’t to associate with her for fear that her magical status would taint them. Her father tried to be kind to her but her mother ruled the house with an iron fist.

 

She was to pray every day to be healed of the devil’s taint.

 

She’d been forced into Catholic school where they had to attend mass every morning; pray before meals and despite her high marks she was accused of the sins of pride and jealousy. Which she had to pray to be forgiven for, the nuns disliked her and the children picked up on it so they stayed away from her.

 

Through Latin class Mal learned that Mal meant bad, she wasn’t a bad girl but she wasn’t wanted either.

 

She’d taken the nickname out of defiance and perhaps a little pride as well.

 

She had nothing but loathing for her parents, she wished she had at least a sibling who cared about her but she was more servant than a sister in that place. The sooner she was graduated, the sooner she could get out.

 

Her grandmother Lucida died soon after her magic manifested so she had some sort of inheritance and her schooling was prepaid. She had a small yearly allowance for books and supplies but she was careful with it.

 

Mal didn’t want to do anything but get good marks and get out of Hogwarts.

 

The only persons in this place that were nice to her were Professor Burbage and Prefect Adrian Pucey.

 

She’d been angry when Flint tossed him off the team last year, stupid git.

 

She had been furious to find out he failed enough of his NEWTS so he would have to repeat the year. Mal had been looking forward to a year without him; it annoyed her that it wasn’t to be…

 

 


	3. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you reading A Better Day, this takes place the day/morning after Ron's confrontation with George the evening after the first day of classes.

Chapter 2

 

It was the Saturday after classes started when Hermione slipped down to Charity’s office.

 

She’d brooded all summer to try to understand why Charity told her what she had.

 

So Hermione really wanted to ask about that…

 

And to discuss what had happened between Ron and George last night.

 

Nervous and agitated, Hermione knocked loudly on Charity’s door.

 

Eventually, she heard a sleepy voice calling out, “Coming, coming. Hold your Abraxans!”

 

The door opened and Charity peeked out, her hair a mess and wrapped in a dressing gown.

 

“Oh, Hermione… what time is it?”

 

“You said even if I dropped Muggle Studies I could come talk to you anytime.” Hermione stammered.

 

“Yes,” Charity yawned stepping aside to let Hermione inside, “I did say that. I thought you’d think I overstepped myself when we spoke last. Maybe I did. Probably shouldn’t have told you that.”

 

“You didn’t mean Professor Lupin and Professor Snape did you?” Hermione asked quietly after the door closed behind them.

 

“Yes I did. To be honest, I thought he would never set foot here again. He quit and then he just appeared before you all left for the summer. I thought he’d come back to finish the term but he was here when I came at the end of August.” Charity frowned, “I was rather confused. I shouldn’t have said anything it wasn’t my place. Perhaps, I think of us more as friends then a teacher and student. That was a slight mistake. Then again I probably hoped you’d tell Harry.”

 

Hermione shook her head, “I thought you told me and didn’t mean to. Besides, we agreed didn’t we? That we wouldn’t tell anyone what we talked about?”

 

Charity smiled wanly, “So we did. So shall we just forget I mentioned them at all?”

 

Hermione let out a sigh of relief, “Could we? I didn’t really come to talk about that. I just wanted to let you know I wouldn’t say anything.”

 

Charity snapped her fingers and an elf appeared with tea and Danishes.

 

Having gotten used to such things, Hermione barely paid it any attention.

 

“So what was it you wanted to discuss?”

 

“Ron…”

 

“What did that brat do now?” Charity sighed pouring tea for them both.

 

“Harry got hurt on the way back to the Tower and George took care of him. Ron verbally attacked George for it. Accused him of seducing Fourth Years, threatening to write Mrs Weasley and told George to stay away from Harry.” Hermione flushed, “He called George a whore. He was so vicious… I thought the way he treated me last year over Scabbers was bad but this was horrible. He’s changed since Pettigrew faked his death as Scabbers.”

 

“I’m not a magical theorist, but if they did bond as master and familiar… I wonder what damage that would have done.” Charity said thoughtfully as she sipped her tea. “I’ll ask Irma to look up books on Magical theory to see what happens if someone bonded to an animagus.

 

“I worry for Harry, he wasn’t telling the whole truth. He was hurt but it wasn’t from falling down the stairs. He wasn’t frightened of George; it was more like trust. George knows something and he did help Harry, I could tell that. George was being truthful when he said he’d never treated Harry any differently from any of the other younger Gryffindor boys. The First Years came running to him when one got sick. You wouldn’t guess from watching him as a Beater that he had a kind heart and an aura that makes you trust him.” Hermione said thoughtfully.

 

“What do you think happened to Harry?” Charity frowned.

 

“I think he was hurt before… George was watching him looking worried since Harry arrived at The Burrow. I think something happened at his relatives’ house.” Hermione’s lip trembled. “I remember someone accused him of attacking Muggleborns because he hates them. He said that no one could live with the Dursleys and not hate them. The twins and Ron had to kidnap him from them second year. I overheard George talking about bars on the window… you don’t think they treat him terribly?”

 

“His clothes are too big, he’s half-starved when he returns in September Hermione, he had bars on his window and he says they treat him badly enough that your kind friend thinks he can hate them. He was obviously in pain quite a while if George worried what little of the summer you shared and then had to help him last night. “

 

Hermione burst into tears, “How could someone hurt Harry? He’s so kind; he visited me every day when I was in the hospital wing after a potions mishap. He didn’t open the curtains to laugh at me; he let me keep them closed. He tried to get Ron to get over Scabbers’ and tried to talk him into being nicer to me. I can’t bear it that someone hurts him…”

 

“Harry’s a boy, he thinks he has to be strong. To let anyone know; would be admitting to weakness. I knew a boy like him when I was in school; he was painfully shy and clung to his two friends. He wouldn’t talk about his home life but his clothes were poorly taken care of. This boy was made fun of for ‘dressing like a house elf’. He was called names, tripped and bullied despite being mistreated at home. Only one friend really stood up for him, while the other was friends with his bullies and tried to keep the two groups apart hoping that the bullying would stop. Unfortunately, the older they got the more vicious it was.” Charity tried desperately to be vague.

 

Hermione sobbed hard, “Poor Professor Snape. The bullies were Sirius and Harry’s dad and his mum was the strong one, wasn’t she?”

 

Charity groaned, “It's things like that that make me want to be a teacher, I try to help those who are bullied and mistreated. Nudge friendships together, people like Miss Lovegood and Mr Creevey. I wanted to be strong like Lily Evans, to be the sort of teacher she would. To build up the students who needed it most, give them a safe place to come and to offer a willing ear when they just need someone to listen.”

 

The lack of confirmation of Hermione’s suspicion made it even more confirmed. No wonder Professor Snape hated Sirius; in school, Sirius had been so horrible…

 

How could Professor Lupin be his friend if he was like that? She believed that Sirius hadn’t betrayed Harry’s parents, the day after Sirius’ escape as soon as they were released from the hospital wing Hermione had gone straight to the library to look up godparents…

 

What she learned made her see what Sirius meant about how he couldn’t have put Harry in danger…

 

That he would have died first…

 

That was true…

 

“What can I do for Harry?” Hermione sniffed.

 

“Keep getting stronger yourself, stand up to Ron when he is being cruel and never let him see if what he said hurt you. You can come break down here if you need to. Be there for Harry, I have a terrible feeling that if Ron’s turning on blood that he’ll turn on Harry next. He’ll need a friend to believe in, someone to trust. You’ve been there through most everything, don’t abandon him or he’ll shatter.” Charity advised.

 

“And end up like Professor Snape…” Hermione whispered.

 

“I don’t think so…Harry is too kind for that. I don’t know all the reasons for why Severus is the way he is. Unfortunately, I have someone I’m worried about. I couldn’t reach out before, but now they are my student and I’ll help how I can. If anyone has the potential to end up as unhappy as he’s been, it's them. I just hope I’m not too late…” Charity whispered.

 

“I don’t like thinking about people getting bullied…” Hermione said as she wrung her hands.

 

“Because it happened to you…”

 

“Yes…I was so smart and people said I rubbed it in all their faces. I always had to have top marks; I never let anyone else top. I was always reading above my grade level, so when we started testing for schools, I overheard adults and schoolmates saying that I didn’t have to study because I had a perfect memory I could test in every school without trying. How it was unfair and how I’d take someone’s spot who had to study and was more deserving…”

 

“Well, you’re at Hogwarts now so they either passed or failed on their own merit. Though it is possible that someone took your place at your original first choice school.”

 

“Of course they did, but I’m here. I can learn more here then they can. I have Harry, Percy’s been there too. He tried helping me study and taught me to love Runes. I let Ron say mean things about him and I felt horrible…”

 

“That’s the sort of weakness we all have when we see wrongdoing and don’t stand up to stop it. I became a teacher because I wanted to help kids who were lonely and struggling.” Charity said quietly.

 

“You do a good job.”

 

“I can help kids like you but Merlin help me, some days I can’t help myself.”

 

“I think that’s why friends are important. We help each other, giving each other strength when we need it. You helped me get through last year, now it’s my turn to help Harry.” Hermione smiled through her tears.

 

“That’s what I hope for, that I build my students up so they can help each other.” Charity said kindly.

 

“You’re good at it. Did you send me Percy?”

 

“I might have mentioned you to him.” Charity chuckled.

 

“If there is anyone I can help,” Hermione smiled.

 

“If you can help Harry survive Ron, then you’ll be strong enough to help my current troubled student. Trust me, you’ll need all the strength you have for both. This one will be my hardest one yet, so like Severus but they don’t have a Lily or a Remus… I think they have someone but they don’t really trust them. I don’t think they know how to trust….” Charity mused.

 

“How awful…” Hermione whispered.

 

“I won’t tell you their name, or what their trouble is, you’ll have to learn that yourself. I might invite you both to tea some Saturday. Or I’ll send them to you… you wanted friends so badly that you accepted Percy’s kindness. I can’t do that with this one, they’ll have to come to both of us. We’ll have to prove our sincerity before they trust us.”

 

The sadness in those words weighed Hermione down with, how different was this person from Harry and how could she ever hope to be strong enough to bear them both?

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you think? Outstanding? Exceeds Expectations? Acceptable? Poor? Dreadful? Troll?


	4. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter occurs following the first few chapters of One Drop and chapter 33 of Better Day. Not that any of the events of those chapters are mentioned...

Chapter 3

 

Mal spotted Seamus and Dean on her way to Muggle Studies.

 

They were so odd…

 

Insanely devoted to one another, with those giant dogs as their constant companions.

 

Dean bothered because of his sister Dana, Mark’s best friend and supposed future wife asked Dean to help him.

 

Mark couldn’t come to her, oh no, they had to reach out to relative strangers.

 

Mal had to admit that Mark seemed happier since he became friends with Dana.

 

Seamus had given her permission to use his owl Morgan to write to Mark care of Dana.

 

So the three of them kept us a correspondence with their young magical siblings.

 

Being half-Muggle, Mal still didn’t understand why they took Muggle Studies.

 

Mal only took it because as Isabel’s slave and being forced into Catholic school, she still knew next to nothing about that world.

 

Walking ahead with Potter and the youngest boy Weasley was Hermione Granger…

 

Granger was the first person she noticed after Sorting, she’d seemed so worried like a mother hen type.

 

Later, Mal had learned that her friends Potter and Weasley had stolen a flying car and drove it to Hogwarts.

 

A few questions put to non-Slytherins resulted in a name and that she was the highest marks for her Year and about a year older than Mal.

 

As gruff as she was with Dean and Seamus, she also envied them.

 

Having grown up in a home with no love, with parents who wanted to be rid of her and spoilt siblings who were thought to be Squibs or Muggles, Mal hadn’t believed in love.

 

Through her association with Dean, Seamus, Seamus’ mother Niamh and her parents Killian and Bethne, Mal had learned that love was real.

 

While she doubted she would be capable of the show of devotion that Niamh, her father, Dean and Seamus showed it was through knowing Bethne who had taken her under her wing that Mal believed even Slytherins had hearts.

 

Mal read. Not only did she get her clothes from second-hand shops growing up, Mal had bought books.

 

Isabel kept her busy during the after school hours so she had to do her homework at night in her attic bedroom lit by the summer sun or a broken like.

 

After her work was done and she had what Isabel called ‘worker’s food’, which was never what the family ate that is.

 

Often it was a cold corn tortilla with a bit of peanut butter and a glass of water.

 

Mal had never eaten lunch at parochial school because she was busy reading and persisting in the isolation that the teachers and students had placed her in.

 

At Hogwarts, she’d hoped for friends but with her blood against her, Slytherin had mostly treated her with disdain if they weren’t bullying her.

 

Mal took what they gave and let it slide, being an unwanted child, Mal didn’t expect to be liked.

 

If she were she’d probably be rather uncomfortable like she was with the O’Shanesey family.

 

Something drew her to Hermione Granger, yet Mal held back…

 

Muggle or not, Granger was friends with Potter and Weasley.

 

Mal couldn’t keep from watching her, wanting to be close to her.

 

“Prewett!”

 

Mal blinked, looking around; she was currently in Muggle Studies having walked there on autopilot and had tuned out the lesson. Shite.

 

Professor Burbage frowned at her, “Stay after class Miss Prewett, please. As I was saying, Muggles have a system called Electricity that they use to power much of their technology. From your reading who can tell me how they power it?”

 

Mal raised her hand.

 

“Yes, Miss Prewett?”

 

“Mostly by burning coal but they use something called Nuclear energy as well. Though there is talk about harnessing wind and solar energy to create electricity.”

 

“Can you tell us how that works?”

 

Mal scowled, “Coal is a stone that they mine by removing it deep, it’s made through thousands of years of decay. Like all mining, it’s dangerous because of poisonous gases, cave-ins and unsafe working conditions. According to Muggles, Nuclear power is created by isolating the smallest building block of life: the atom. Specifically, they tend to gravitate to using uranium, which radiates something that poisons the body and causes all sorts of medical problems. They have safety procedures but even those are useless when you can’t see. Sometimes, they use plutonium which is supposedly more dangerous and made from uranium.”

 

“Tell us about how you use wind and the sun to power things freak.” Ravenclaw Merak Hitchens sneered.

 

“Mr Hitchens leave Miss Prewett alone and let her answer.” Professor Burbage glared. “One more comment like that and you will have detention.”

 

“They build something called a windmill, they use a sort of place set at the properly calculated angle to catch the wind and turn the fan. As the wind moves the fan, it turns gears and opens something called a circuit. As long as the wind is blowing and moving the fan, electricity is created.  If you have an entire field of them well, you can generate a lot of it.  As for the theory of solar energy, a lot of electricity is created by heat. In some place like say, Africa, when the sun is very hot, there is a lot of heat. They say they can create a sort of glass that would absorb the sun’s energy and they’d convert it somehow to electricity. I only know because there was a show on the telly about it but I didn’t get to see much of it.” Mal shrugged.

 

“That is rather informative, not all of that is in the book.” Professor Burbage frowned.

 

“Technology has come a long way in a short time.” Mal snorted, “Take the computer for example; in the ‘40s it took an entire floor just to house the circuits to allow it to do a simple math problem. Now they are small enough for a common person to use one. My father is an accountant, he has to make all sorts of calculations and his computer fits on my desk.” Mal thumped it in emphasis.

 

“How fascinating.” Lovegood said airily.

 

“Indeed. Now the bell is about to ring, your homework is to write an essay on electricity and why Muggles need it.” Professor Burbage called out as the bell rang.

 

Mal slowly began to pack up.

 

The door closed and Mal’s skin tingled as wards were brought up.

 

She scowled, “What’s this?”

 

“I’ve been watching you, you seem distracted and worried. You weren’t my student before so I couldn’t approach you to ask. I know you don’t know me well yet but if you ever need someone to talk to, I’m here. If it makes you feel any better I’ll take a magical vow to keep what we say between us.”

 

“You sure? I had a person at my old school who said that and then told everything I was stupid enough to tell him to my parents and teachers.” Mal spat.

 

“Look up the Unbreakable vow and others. Pick the one you feel the most strongly about and I’ll take it. Tell your professor that I wanted to talk to you; I don’t want you to get in trouble. I am always here with biscuits and tea when you need someone to talk to. I know you are acquainted with my students Thomas and Finnigan but you don’t seem to have friends.”

 

“Friends are overrated and take too much time,” Mal grumbled.

 

“That’s what my sister says, I’ve watched her for about thirty years and she’s miserable. I don’t want that for you. If you ever want to talk the name’s Charity.” Professor Burbage said kindly.

 

“Whatever,” Mal said putting on her book bag.

 

“Hermione comes to talk to me sometimes. Back when Weasley was being so cruel to her Hermione used to come every day. She’d take naps in my office, study there and sometimes, she just needed to talk.” Professor Burbage called out.

 

Mal stiffened, “Really? What did she talk about?”

 

“Now Miss Prewett if I promise to keep your secrets, I can’t tell hers.” Charity chuckled.

 

“I’ll think about it…” Mal mumbled as she felt the wards come down and left.

 

Charity turned her timeturner to as she stepped into her office to cross to the other classroom to teach the Fourth years.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you think? Outstanding? Exceeds Expectations? Acceptable? Poor? Dreadful? Troll?


	5. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

 

Neville was watching Adrian Pucey as he opened his presents and smiling to himself.

 

Hermione was sitting on the opposite side of Harry from Neville and glanced up a few times.

 

Adrian’s reaction had been priceless; made a high-pitched yelp sort of noise that startled Montague and caused Slytherin to gossip loudly. The Gryffindor Pucey was snickering as he made his way back to Gryffindor.

 

Hermione was eating the same, as Neville was when Adrian Pucey caught Neville’s eye and they shared a grin.

 

Neville grinned back blushing as he looked back down at his food shyly.

 

Neville had totally been oblivious to where exactly he was sitting until he was nudged from both sides.

 

“So… it is _Adrian’s_ birthday? You got him a ring, Neville?” Harry whispered.

 

“So that the Adrian you were talking about? You’ve got a crush on Pucey?” Dean teased. “No wonder you were more interested in _tutoring_ then painting.”

 

“You still call throwing paint on canvas art Thomas?” Ron sneered.

 

Harry flinched, Neville frowned and Seamus looked mad but stared at his plate.

 

Dean sighed, “You wouldn’t know art if it hit you on the head Weasley. I wasn’t talking to you. It’s rude to eavesdrop. Didn’t your mother teach you any manners?”

 

Ron growled, “Don’t talk about my mother.”

 

Dean shrugged, “If you don’t make judgments on a subject you know nothing about then I won’t. Neville, I was wondering what it was you got him?”

 

Neville swallowed, “A ring with his family crest?”

 

Seamus whistled leaning over Dean’s lap, “That’s some gift.”

 

Neville flushed, chewing on his bottom lip and toying with his fork. “I thought he’d like it…he did.”

 

Dean leant in to whisper, “Should I anonymously send him a charcoal portrait of you?”

 

Neville wiggled closer to Harry and pushed Dean back, “No…” he squeaked.

 

Harry giggled, “I know our tastes run in the same view but you’re not mine.”

 

Neville’s face flamed, “Harry!”

 

“Damn poufs. You’re all disgusting.” Ron snarled.

 

“You are just a narrow-minded little boy whose only accomplishments are intimidation and never having lost at Wizarding Chess,” Hermione said sharply surprising herself.

 

Charity beamed at her from the Head table.

 

Neville blinked in surprise.

 

Ron scowled, “You’re a Muggleborn shouldn’t you find bent persons disgusting?”

 

Hermione sniffed, “Painting persons all the same colour because of generalities is a sign of a weak mind or a lack of self-esteem on your own part. Why should I? One of my parents’ associates is bent as you put it and they never treated them any different from their other employees. I was raised to have an open mind and to accept people on their own merits rather than others’ interpretations of whom they should be.”

 

“So that’s where you get your arrogance and self-importance.” Ron sneered. “Are you a pouf like they are?”

 

Hermione gave an unladylike snort, “That is none of your business Ron. I believe that my sexual orientation is my own business. I suppose I should have to actually like someone to decide what it would be. If you really were Harry’s friend, you’d be willing to accept everything about him. A true friend would not expect him to live up to your expectations as if you were some crazy fan who possessed unrealistic views of who Harry is and what he should be.”

 

Ron scoffed, “Harry is a public figure and he should live his life keeping that in mind. He doesn’t have the right to be selfish.”

 

Hermione growled, “Selfish? Selfish? Harry? He is the most unselfish boy I have ever met. He has the same rights as everyone else, I think it’s a shame how closely people follow him.”

 

“As if you don’t!” Ron scowled, “You raved about how you knew him because you read about him?”

 

Hermione shrugged, “Sometimes writers don’t have all the facts. Look at Skeeter.”

 

“This is why no one likes talking to you Hermione, you think you know everything.” Ron tossed back.

 

“I’ve learned to have thicker skin Ron; you won’t send me crying to the bathroom again.” Hermione retorted, feeling stronger because she was defending Harry rather than herself.

 

Neville looked from one face to the other, while Harry had stiffened next to him.

 

Since Hermione and Ron started arguing, Harry had looked down at his plate and pushed it away, twisting his robe in his hands.

 

Hermione wondered just what had Harry ever done to deserve a bully like Ron for a friend. Charity had been right that Ron would turn on Harry, she’d hoped that her observant former professor and now confidant/friend was wrong…

 

It seemed that since Ron appeared to be on an ‘I hate poufs’ rampage and insulted everyone he thought was one; that Harry, her sweet kind friend who had the misfortune to learn that being bent and being Ron’s friend were incompatible.

 

Hermione finally sniffed and sat down, too furious to speak to Ron one more minute.

 

Neville placed a hand on Harry’s arm, and her friend looked up sadly.

 

Neville whispered in Harry’s ear, and Harry nodded, still twisting his robes in his hands.

 

“If you’ve got something to say, Longbottom, say it to my face.” Ron stood and leaning over the table menacingly as he glared at Neville.

 

Neville growled, standing to meet him.

 

“I said: Harry is worth twenty of you and that you are an arrogant, cocky, ignorant child who doesn’t seem to realise what he says is crude and evil,” Neville growled, raising an eyebrow, expecting an asinine comeback.

 

Ron glared; drawing his fist back to hit him.

 

To everyone’s surprise, Harry then was standing next to Neville and caught his fist in his hand.

 

“I think Neville is right, Ronald. Grow up.” Harry dropped Ron’s hand and sat down.

 

“You’d best watch yourself, Potter, you’re doing exactly what that disgusting snake told you not to, first year.” And with that Ron stormed out of the Great Hall, shoving a tiny first year out his way, knocking her over.

 

She landed on her arse and watched Ron’s unrepentant retreating back.

 

One of the first year boys- Nott was it? hopped up from his spot at the bench and helped her to her feet, “Careful now. Are you okay? Natalie, isn’t it?”

 

She blushed, beaming at him, “Yes it is, and I’m fine.”

 

Hermione scooted over to Harry and hugged him. “You’ve still got me. Don’t forget it.”

 

Harry groaned, “Maybe he was right after all. I think I have come to regret refusing his hand.”

 

Neville bumped shoulders with Harry, “I’m your friend, right?”

 

Harry smiled painfully, “Of course.”

 

Neville blushed.

 

Hermione realised that made Harry Neville’s first real friend…

 

Then to her shock and hurt, Harry sat in the midst of Neville, Dean and Seamus all day…

 

XoooooX

 

The meaner Ron was the more Harry pulled away from the both of them and clung to Neville…

 

Leaving Hermione bewildered and hurt.

 

Especially when Harry and Neville seemed to be spending a lot of time with Dean and Seamus.

 

Hermione felt left out…

 

How was she supposed to help Harry cope with Ron if he pushed her away?

 

So was it any wonder that she was standing her after classes wringing her hands as she stared at Charity’s office door?

 

Struggling not to cry, Hermione quietly rapped on the door.

 

It opened at once.

 

“Hermione? Come if. I was just about to head down to dinner.”

 

“Oh,” Hermione said biting her lip, “I can always come back later.”

 

“No, I said my office was always open and I meant it. Come sit down.” Charity pushed her towards her usual seat.

 

Hermione blinked.

 

Lying on the desk was a half-finished needlepoint picture.

 

Charity chuckled, “It’s an old Burbage tradition; when we’re upset we do needle points. You should see Purcell Castle, Faith has them everywhere from cushions to wall hangings. When she is particularly distraught Faith makes tapestries. How she finds the time between the Wizengamot and the Board of Governors I’ll never know. Her twin, my sister Connie- that’s short for Constance, my family has a habit of using virtue names if you couldn’t tell, runs our family’s shop in Diagon. It’s called ‘In Stitches’ of all things.”

 

Hermione blushed, “I had some embroidery lessons when I was younger but that’s beautiful.”

 

“Faith hasn’t a daughter just Adrian and Gary; Connie taught Lysippe and Hippolyte, only they aren’t as talented at it as we are. As for Irma, she’s not very Artsy, she takes after our father’s family, which is why she changed her name to ‘Prince’. I think she did it to spite us or to break away from us Burbages.”

 

“If you’re Charity, and your sisters are Faith and Constance, doesn’t Irma,”

 

“Have a virtue name? Yes, hers is Prudence.” Charity said airily, as she picked up her needlepoint, “What was it you needed to get off your chest?”

 

Hermione twisted her fingers in her robes, “Harry…”

 

“Ah, clinging to his bent male friends I see. The meaner Ron becomes the more distance he’s trying to put between his past and his present.” Charity said as she began to stitch,

 

“It hurts…” Hermione whispered, “He’s pushing me away and I defended him…”

 

“I know, I saw and I’m proud of you.” Charity praised, “Remember what I said about boys and weakness. He’s at an age where his male friends are who he’ll confide in and rely on. It’s not that he doesn’t trust you and that you aren’t friends, you are and he does. Yet he’s at loose ends, he’s just coming to terms with his sexuality and if I’m not mistaken, that he has a crush on a rival Seeker. Someone that Ron would never accept being Harry’s friend or his lover. I remember watching two boys when I was in school,”

 

“Snape and Lupin right?” Hermione frowned.

 

“…who will remain nameless, the closer they became the more isolated Harry’s mother became. They were friends yes, but she found herself reluctantly attracted to a flashy, brash bully. It upset her but hearts are funny things…” Charity mused, “I ought to know…”

 

“Is it really okay in the Magical world to be…bent? Is that the right word? I know my parents don’t seem to mind…but…”

 

“As long as children are born to continue a family line, most don’t care, unless you’re a witch and the only offspring of a male entailed line. It’s looked down on to do this, but sometimes bent witches are forced to bond to wizards to ensure the line continues. Some families can come up with alternatives like a male relation usually a brother providing seed for the non-related Bondmate to attempt to carry a male child or one-child contracts. Sometimes blood adoption is permissible, it all depends on the family of course. Faith is mother’s heir and well, unless she has a daughter well the title will pass to Lysippe or Hippolyte.”

 

“Oh… since I’m a Muggleborn. what chance do I have of finding someone interested in me?” Hermione asked nervously.

 

Charity giggled, “Helga’s cup! You don’t know? Of course not, they’re just too likely to keep it to themselves. You have a very secret admirer and I do hope you two hit it off. I put Percy and Oliver together and some would say that was ill-fated but they blossomed. Perfect balances for one another, I could tell. They were friends first but I saw that they liked one another and gave them a nudge. Dean and Seamus didn’t need any help mind you. You two, oh I do hope you get together! I’d like to see you two happy if anyone deserved it you do.”

 

“I gave up those classes…” Hermione said oddly, “I was sort of wondering… if you could… teach me needlepoint? Then I will have something to do after homework with Harry distracted…”

 

“Of course, I’ll floo Connie after dinner and ask her to have her elf deliver me a few easy projects.” Charity checked her watch, “Oh my look at the time. We’ll have to hurry if we want to eat. Come along Hermione, depression is one thing but I won’t let you skip meals.”

 

Charity herded her out the door and they headed down to the Great Hall together.

 

Hermione was still upset about Harry’s pulling away but at least she had Charity right?

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you think? Outstanding? Exceeds Expectations? Acceptable? Poor? Dreadful? Troll?


	6. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

 

The Saturday following the argument with Ron in the Great Hall had Hermione walking silently on her own.

 

Neville, Dean and Seamus had gone down earlier and Harry was avoiding Ron even as he walked behind him…

 

Which Hermione thought was for the best because if Ron couldn’t say anything nice, it really was best to stay far away…

 

She was trailing behind them both and well, it was just as well that she couldn’t see the lost, pained look Harry wore every time he looked at Ron…

 

Ron walked around the corner with Harry and Hermione trailing behind him.

 

On the floor with Adrian Pucey leaning over him frowning with what seemed to be worry was Neville.

 

Harry rushed over to him and smiled at Pucey as he leant over and whispered in Neville’s ear.

 

Ron glared at Harry and sneered at both Pucey and Neville. “Disgusting poufs…”

 

“Did you say something?” Pucey was glaring at the redhead.

 

“Of course I did.” Ron sneered

 

“Care to share with all of us?” Pucey snapped.

 

“You and Longbottom are disgusting poufs. That’s what I said.” Ron tossed back.

 

“And if I’m not gay? You just made both a fool of yourself and an enemy. Leave Neville alone. Don’t let me catch you even looking at him. Don’t think about him. DO not touch him. Got it?” Pucey was snarling.

 

“Why would I want to touch him?” Ron said in a disgusted tone.

 

Neville turned his face away.

 

“You,” Pucey snarled.

 

“Adrian, please…” Neville choked out.

 

Immediately Pucey turned to look at him.

 

“Get the bloody hell out of here before I change my mind and curse you, you insolent asshole.” Pucey snarled at Ron before pulling Neville into him.

 

“Whatever. He’ll always be a fat pouf that no one will ever love.” Ron muttered before running off.

 

Neville choked on a sob.

 

Hermione watched still horror-struck by Ron, as Pucey stroked Neville’s hair.

 

“It’s true… everything he said is… true… Gran was right too… I’m a coward and nobody… will… ever… love me.” Neville sobbed, his body shaking in Pucey’s arms.

 

Pucey seemed to be whispering in Neville’s ear.

 

“Who loves me then?”  Neville sniffed.

 

“I do.” Harry piped up from beside Adrian, “You’re one of my closest friends Neville, and no matter what Ron says or what choices you make, you’re still the same Neville and you’re still my friend.”

 

Hermione wished she had the courage to say the same but she wasn’t close enough to say it and have it believed.

 

Neville started to sob harder after Harry’s words.

 

Pucey picked him up and carried him to a nearby bench, sitting him down and squatting so he was face to face with the Fourth Year. Pucey let the leash drop to the bench, the leash seemed to be under a powerful sticking charm on the bench because Pucey’s over exuberant puppy couldn’t make it come off the bench.

 

Harry turned to Hermione, tears in his eyes, “Neville does believe me, doesn’t he? He’s my friend, of course, I love him! Just like I love you but you’re like a sister you know?”

 

Hermione let out a choked sob as she pulled Harry into her arms, “He knows, Ron’s always had a knife tongue. Some days it hurts worse than others; today Neville feels like Ron’s words stabbed him through the heart. He’s insecure, you know that, so Ron poked him where it hurts.”

 

“Why! Why is Ron so mean? Neville’s never hurt him and Seamus… Seamus hardly ever talks him. How could I not see that my best friend was some sort of monster?” Harry wept, clinging to her.

 

“We all make excuses for the people we love, it's human nature…” Hermione’s voice trailed off as footsteps came from around the corner.

 

Draco Malfoy was peeking at them and waved at Pucey.

 

Harry dried his tears on his sleeve and wiggled away just as Pucey spoke.

 

“I’ll be right back Nev, Harry,” Pucey said, excusing himself and walking over to Draco.

 

As Pucey walked away, Harry went to join Neville on the bench and hugged him, “You’ll be alright. You’ve got us remember? Ron’s the idiot with no one.”

 

Then they lapsed into silence as Pucey talked to Malfoy.

 

Until Pucey ruffled Malfoy’s hair and the blonde Slytherin turned striding off looking like an affronted peacock.

 

Pucey laughed and turned on his heel returning to Neville and Harry to sit with them only to wrap his arms around Neville and hug, “Are you alright now? I really should take you to the hospital wing to get your head checked over. If it was more than a mild concussion and you aren’t treated, I’ll feel just horrid.” His voice shaking slightly…

 

Harry’s eyebrows furrowed as he looked quizzically at Neville and he bit his lip. “What happened to your head?”

 

“Apollo was running and I was trying to stop him but we barrelled right into Neville and he hit his head on the floor. We should go,” Pucey offered, eyeing the small bump on the back of his head that was just barely visible with pained guilt.

 

“Okay… will you stay?” Neville mumbled.

 

“Of course I’ll stay with you…” Pucey smiled as he promised.

 

Neville quickly hugged Harry, “Be careful please,” before following Pucey down the corridor.

 

Harry watched them a while until they disappeared from sight and then looked at her, “They’re sweet aren’t they?”

 

Hermione smiled taking his hand and helping him up, “Yes, Pucey’s decent for a Slytherin.”

 

Harry turned red, “Unlike some people…”

 

“Just because you think you were wrong to decide to be Ron’s friend First Year, doesn’t mean you were wrong about Malfoy.” Hermione frowned.

 

“I don’t know…maybe I’m like mum…I think I like him and I don’t know why. He’s not the nicest person in the world and he called you that…name…” Harry swallowed.

 

“Well _if_ he likes you, he better realise that even with Ron gone we come as a package because we’re friends right?” Hermione said warily.

 

Harry hugged her, “You’re the best Hermione!”

 

Then Harry dragged her into the Great Hall to save a seat for Neville.

 

XoooooX

 

Finally, Neville claimed the seat at the Gryffindor table beside Harry and his plate automatically filled.

 

“Are you okay? Apollo didn’t seriously injure you right?” Harry asked worriedly.

 

“No, I just have a slight concussion. Adrian was worried sick… he blames himself…” Neville said as he pulled the potion from Madam Pomfrey out of his pocket placing it beside his plate. Sighing as he took a bite of the waffles that had appeared when he sat down.

 

“Everything would have been better if the bloody snake’s dog killed him,” Ron mumbled.

 

Neville took in a deep shaky breath as he quickly downed the potion before taking another bite of his breakfast.

 

Harry glared at Ron and Hermione watched as he looked over at the Slytherin table, scanning it quickly, lingering on a certain blonde-haired boy, before looking down at his plate blushing.

 

“Aww, Harry has a crush.” Neville teased quietly, poking Harry’s cheek.

 

Dean and Seamus looked up grinning at him while George shifted in his seat opposite them with curiosity evident in his face.

 

“Thanks, Neville,” Harry muttered darkly, still blushing.

 

“You’re quite welcome!” Neville nudged Harry with his shoulder and giving him a mock bow.

 

The Great Hall doors opened and Oliver Wood walked in.

 

Hermione blinked, ‘What? Oliver graduated in June with Percy, so what was he doing here?’

 

Meanwhile Neville had turned back to Harry, “How long have you liked him?”

 

“Liked who?” Oliver asked, smiling at his old team and Neville.

 

“Hi Ollie! How are you treating Perce?” George smiled up at his old Quidditch captain.

 

“Hush George… everything is great.” Oliver grinned.

 

“Hi Oliver, what are you doing here?” Harry asked, turning to look up at the former Gryffindor Captain.

 

“I’m actually here to talk to Neville,” Oliver said, turning his attention to said boy

 

Neville raised an eyebrow and scooted over, offering Oliver a place to sit.

 

Oliver sat and smiled.

 

Neville felt his stomach erupt in butterflies and two holes burning into the back of his head. He turned to look at the Slytherin table and met Adrian’s lavender gaze.

 

Hermione could see jealousy in those eyes; Pucey sure didn’t like Oliver talking to Neville. Possessiveness could turn bad…

 

Pucey seemed as if he’d growled at Malfoy who stood up at started to walk across the Great Hall.

 

Now Hermione was really confused…

 

Neville broke eye contact with his Slytherin and turned to Oliver. “What’s up?”

 

“Well, first off, I want to state that I did some heredity research, and we’re second cousins. My mother and your maternal grandfather were siblings.” Oliver said smiling.

 

Neville just looked confused, apparently forgetting all the letters he’d gotten when the time came to pick his electives...

 

“Also your paternal grandfather and my grandmother Cassie were siblings as well. Cassie is bonded to your Great Uncle Algie, the one who knocked you out the window? Secondly, I want to apologise for not being there last year, I should have done my research earlier and maybe you would have had me there for you as support. I was too Quidditch-obsessed to think of anything but that and my boyfriend…” Oliver said.

 

Then Draco who Hermione had been observing with worry was stopping at Gryffindor’s table and interrupted him.

 

“Pot- I mean, Harry, I’ve come over here to apologise for my atrocious and cruel behaviour in the past, in hopes that we could put it behind us and become friends?” Malfoy said nervously.

 

Ron glared slack-jawed at the blonde Slytherin.

 

Hermione watched awestruck as Harry’s own jaw dropped and his cheeks turned bright red, but he put his hand out. 

 

This gesture didn’t seem like much to the surrounding people, (with the exception of Ron and Hermione) but Malfoy grinned and his eyes sparkled with a mysterious emotion.

 

“Harry Potter,” Harry said when Draco’s hand met his, both of their eyes widening.

 

Hermione spotted a crackle of magic between their hands.

 

“D-Draco Malfoy,” Draco said, trying to recover himself.

 

“I seemed to have mixed with the wrong sort. Maybe you can help me?” Harry asked with a seemingly innocent smile on his face.

 

To Hermione’s amusement, it was Malfoy’s turn for his jaw to drop but he nodded.

 

“Would you care to sit with us for a while, or are there too many lions for you?” Harry asked wickedly.

 

“I was actually just going to go back, but I need to have a word with Longbottom and Wood before I go.”

 

Harry nodded and sat down his fingers caressing the hand that Draco Malfoy had shook.

 

Dean winked and Harry blushed fiercely.

 

Draco leant across the table. “There’s a very possessive Slytherin over at my table, that doesn’t like older men talking to his Neville.”

 

“You can tell this Slytherin that I’m his cousin and that I can talk to my family if I want. As I was saying Neville, I was thinking about taking you to Hogsmeade as a sort of bonding time for us? Maybe get you new robes and lunch?” Oliver said pleasantly.

 

Neville opened his mouth to protest as Oliver grinned.

 

“Please Neville?”  Oliver begged giving him a sort of pouting puppy face.

 

The boys didn’t notice Malfoy walking swiftly back to the Slytherin table but Hermione did.

 

“Fine, I’ll go.” Neville blushed sighing.

 

Then Oliver left him to go up to the Great Table obviously to speak to Professor McGonagall and Harry was now watching Draco with a strange look on his face.

 

“Harry, stop staring, he’ll notice.” George mumbled as he leaned over to grab the pumpkin juice.

 

Harry turned to face him, frowning “I wasn’t staring.”

 

“You were too,” Neville said, smiling at him.

 

“Disgusting…” Ron mumbled, nudging Ginny with his elbow and leaning over to whisper in her ear.

 

“If you’ve got something to say, Weasley, say it to my face,” Neville growled, throwing Ron’s previous words back in his face.

 

“Am I not allowed to speak with my sister, Longbottom?” Ron snarled at him.

 

Neville’s ears turned red. “I know you’re talking about how disgusting we are. Don’t deny it, if you have a r-remark to make about who I, or any of these boys like, say it to our faces. Spreading untrue things gets you nowhere and gains you, enemies. You’ve already made an enemy of a very powerful Slytherin, and a large group of Gryffindors. You don’t need to have any more people against you.”

 

‘Telling Ron off took a lot of courage,’ Hermione thought, ‘especially considering how hurt he’d been by Ron’s words out in the corridor.’

 

“I do what I want Longbottom, and if I want to beat the pouf out of someone, I should have the right to do it.” Ron sneered.

 

“That is the single most idiotic thing I have ever heard, you ignoramus,” Hermione said, turning to Ron as if to be a human shield to the boys he’d been insulting.

 

“Detention Ronald, I thought you would have learned by now. Keep your homophobic comments to yourself.” George growled at his younger brother.

 

Neville looked from George to Ron, as if trying to see differences and similarities to explain why they were so different.

 

Neville bit his lip and failed to hear George when the replacement Sixth Year Prefect asked if he’s okay.

 

George tapped the fourth year on his shoulder frowning.

 

Neville shook his head, turning to the ginger. “What?”

 

“I asked if you were okay,” George asked eyes searching him.

 

“Yes, I’m just thinking. I seemed to have given myself another headache.” Neville said, the throbbing in his skull coming back.

 

Then Neville turned to look over his shoulder at the Slytherin table.

 

Hermione was that Pucey was in a heated conversation with his small group of friends and then he looked up, frowning as he met Neville’s eyes, ‘You okay?’ He mouthed.

 

Hermione watched anxiously as Neville shook his head slightly, pointing to his temple.

 

Pucey’s shoulders sagged and stood.

 

Neville pouted as the Slytherin prefect made his way to him.

 

“Did you take your potion like Madam Pomfrey told you to?” Pucey asked reaching out to brush the hair from his eye.

 

“Yes I did, it worked for about twenty minutes and then I started thinking too hard.” Neville winced.

 

“Ba-Nev,” Pucey mumbled, “just please don’t hurt yourself. It pains me enough that I caused this; I don’t want you in more pain.” kneeling in front of him. 

 

Neville stared at the ring on the hand placed on his knee, reaching out and fiddling with it absentmindedly.

 

Hermione could seem that gesture made them both blush and she giggled.

 

“Poufs.” Ron grumbled, glaring at them.

 

“What did I say, Weasley? Leave him alone or I swear I’ll assign you detention every night with Filch until the end of the bloody term.” Adrian growled, the hand Neville was playing with nervously, twitched.

 

Neville bit his lip as he intertwined their fingers. “Just drop it, Adrian…”

 

“No Neville, he’s hurting you, and I won’t allow it,” Pucey growled.

 

“So you’re the possessive one that Malfoy was talking about…” Oliver said when he returned to Gryffindor table and glanced from Pucey’s face to their hands. “Dinna expect that…”

 

Neville let go hastily, his face turning bright red.

 

Pucey grumbled something that sounds like the word ‘cousins’, standing to meet Oliver.

 

Oliver took his eyes from his red-faced cousin to the Slytherin Prefect, who was nearly as tall he was. Oliver grinned and held out his hand to the boy before him. “Wood, Oliver Wood.”

 

“I know who you are Wood. I’m Pucey, Adrian Pucey.”

 

“I know who you are as well; we played Quidditch against each other many times before.”

 

“A very talented and tough competitor, might I add,” Pucey grumbled.

 

“Flattery gets you nowhere, Pucey. I see you’ve taken quite a liking to my cousin though.” Oliver smirked.

 

Pucey tried to hide the blush creeping onto his face.

 

Oliver chuckled.

 

“More than he seems to realise…” Pucey whispered.

 

Oliver’s mouth formed an ‘o’ before smiling again, “He deserves someone who would be good to him.” Oliver said quietly, “Like a former Head Boy I know, sometimes he seems to not see his own worth.”

 

Then Neville started spluttering and coughing getting all of their attention.

 

Pucey turned and knelt beside him again while Harry patted his back.

 

“Ye alright there Nev?” Seamus asked, his thumb rubbing circles on Dean’s hand.

 

Neville nodded but continued to cough, tears welling in his eyes from coughing so much. He tried to take a deep breath and attempted to hold the coughing back, failing miserably, and tears fell from his eyes.

 

Pucey silently wiped them away and Harry rubbed circles into his back.

 

Slowly the coughing faded …

 

 “Maybe today is a really bad day for going to Hogsmeade,” Neville whispered with a raw scratchy throat as he slipped into unconsciousness falling off the bench and into Adrian’s lap.

 

“Nev? Nev!” Pucey gasped cradling the boy as he fell into him toppling backwards.

 

Quidditch sharpened reflexes and a terminally clumsy lover had Oliver casting a cushioning charm on the floor behind Pucey.

 

Harry jumped off the bench, his face pale with worry. “Neville!”

 

“Maybe your stinking mutt killed him.” Ron sneered.

 

Fred hexed him silent before Hermione could get her wand out.

 

Seamus clenched his fists, “Apollo’s no mutt! He’s a purebred wolfhound. One of the O’Shaneseys finest! We wouldn’t dare sell a lesser dog to the likes of the Puceys.”

 

Ron clenched his fist and raised it just enough for Seamus and Hermione to notice.

 

Seamus flinched and joined Dean in worrying over their friend.

 

Oliver knelt at his cousin’s side, ignoring the stiffness of the Slytherin holding Neville. “Must have been a hell of crack he took. I’ve never known him to faint before. Sprained wrists and ankles to be sure but not faintin’, you sure Pomfrey be checking our Neville over proper like?”

 

Pucey scowled, “Watched her myself. Of course, she threw us out because she wanted breakfast and we were holding her up.”

 

“She’s up late most nights…” tiny Colin Creevey said quietly. “Dennis’ been sick since the night of Sorting. He caught a cold and hasn’t been better yet.”

 

George frowned, “That shouldn’t be… it's been weeks.”

 

Colin sniffed, “I’m worried sick. His friends Mike and Ned see him more than I do, always bringing him their notes and homework. If it weren’t for them, he wouldn’t be keeping up.”

 

“How’d he hurt himself?” Oliver frowned more fiercely.

 

 “Pucey’s stupid dog ran him down. Any faster and he’d have killed him.”  Ginny swallowed as she repeated Ron’s words.

 

Hermione glared at her, hands on her hips, “You should watch that sort of talk Ginny. Neville’s never bothered you. You have no reason to be cruel.”

 

Ginny flinched.

 

Madam Pomfrey finally made her way over from the Head Table. “Really? What’s wrong with the boy now?”

 

Oliver glared, “Fainted. Your pain potion must not have done much good. You should have paid more attention to the boy instead of your stomach.”

 

“You have no right to talk to me like that Oliver Wood! You stupid sport has brought more patients into my hospital wing over the years. How many times has Harry Potter had to be carried into my realm unconscious? Quidditch ought to be banned!” Pomfrey snapped.

 

The Quidditch fans at Gryffindor and anyone in earshot hissed at her.

 

“I think,” George said shortly, “that the health of that boy is far more important than your prejudices. Now are you going to conjure the stretcher or shall I?”

 

The nurse sniffed, flicking her wand as if to conjure.

 

Pucey glared, “We don’t need it. I have him.” He held Neville gently but securely with one arm and held up the other to Oliver, “I will need a hand up though.”

 

Oliver nodded and hauled them both up showing surprising strength.

 

Then Adrian followed the stiff-backed nurse.

 

Behind him were Oliver, Harry, Dean, Seamus and Hermione.

 

Hermione paused long enough to grab the potions phial, finding it slick and slightly oily made her frown. She hurried after the boys, thinking about how her parents had to test all their patients for all sorts of possible allergies.

 

Was it possible that Neville was allergic to the pain potion or was it the something on the phial that she felt?

 

George and Colin not far behind but for different reasons…

 

Pucey turned his head as they passed Slytherin table, “Draco, go call Healer Smythe, I want a Healer to take care of Neville.” He snapped. “Clearly, a mere Mediwitch is no viable substitute.”

 

Immediately, his cousin swerved away from the table.

 

Harry was about to follow but Pucey shook his head, “You’d best be here in case he wakes up. You and I are his closest friends and he will need to be comforted.” Pucey shifted the fourth year’s boy in his arms, looking down at his pale face.

 

Hermione’s first thought was that Pucey was going to kiss Neville, but instead, he bit his lip and tore his eyes from Neville’s face.

 

Oliver was walking to his right, watching him with great interest while Dean and Seamus whispered frantically with Colin and George talking amongst themselves.

 

Hermione and Harry flank Adrian and Oliver as they follow Madam Pomfrey to the infirmary.

 

Once the doors open the students rushed in…

 

While Pucey laid Neville reverently, gently down on a bed, George and Colin were rushing off to see Mini Creevey.

 

The poor kid had missed weeks of classes, having missed a month of classes Second Year due to accidentally imbibing Polyjuice laced with cat hair, Hermione knew that without Harry’s visits or Dean’s notes she would have never caught up regardless of whether the exams were eventually cancelled that year. Dean later kept notes for her after she was petrified, for not being a friend-friend Dean had been rather kind- luckily they shared practically the same schedule that year, someday she’d like to repay him somehow.

 

Madam Pomfrey started towards where Neville lay.

 

Pucey growled menacingly at her with his hand moving to his wand. “Your service is no longer required. I have the best healer in all of Magical Britain coming to heal him.”

 

“That’ll be quite an expensive visit, now won’t it Mr Pucey? I’m perfectly capable of healing your friend for free.” She said starting towards Neville again.

 

Pucey snarled and stood. “I said your services are no longer required. I can handle the price, and he’s more than a friend to me. Now I advise you go and check on your other patients before I decide to take him away from here and bring him to Professor Snape.”

 

Hermione was suspicious that Pucey meant using Snape’s floo or something.

 

Madam Pomfrey huffed at him and strutted away.

 

Pucey turned back to Neville and took his hand. “This is entirely my fault, Neville… I didn’t mean it, I’m so sorry.”

 

“Hey Adrian, don’t beat yourself up over it. Neville wouldn’t want that.” Harry said, sitting on the other side of the bed.

 

Hermione sat on the next bed staring at the phial in her hands, whose fault was it? Adrian’s for losing control of a hyperactive puppy? Pomfrey’s for failing to check Neville over properly?

 

“You’re talking like he’s dead. You don’t understand, you don’t have to live with being the cause of pain to your ma-really good friend…” Pucey mumbled.

 

“You just said he was more than a friend to you… What did you mean?” her raven-haired friend asked quietly.

 

“I- it-it meant nothing. I-uhh…” Adrian stammered looked at the door in the hope of rescue.

 

The door was pushed open and Draco rushed in with a tired-looking Healer with greying hair and green robes behind him.

 

Pucey stood up with a sigh of relief and went to meet Healer Smythe.

 

“Why don’t you tell me what happened young Master Pucey? Young Master Malfoy was a bit short on the details.” the healer began

 

“My dog accidentally knocked him over. Pomfrey over there said it was only a mild concussion and gave him a pain potion. Then he started having trouble breathing and fainted. I know that’s not normal for a concussion…” Pucey said looking terribly distraught.

 

Then Neville groaned and Hermione watched as he cracked his eyes open, only he closed them immediately.

 

Pucey looked at Neville, a smile playing on his lips. “I knew you’d wake up around now… Healer Smythe?” Pucey mumbled and turned his head to the right.

 

“He’s awake?” the Healer asked with an acidic voice that reminded Hermione of Snape.

 

Pucey nodded.

 

“How are you feeling young Master Longbottom?” Healer Smythe asked.

 

“Lights bright…too bright.” Neville gasped.

 

The healer pointed his wand at the curtains and they shut immediately. “Is that better?”

 

“A little,” Neville whispered. “Throat hurts.”

 

“You’ve got a rash young man, your throat’s swollen,” the healer said as he gently felt Neville’s neck, “you lost consciousness and you’re chilled. You’re having an allergic reaction.”

 

“He’s allergic to peanuts,” Oliver said quietly. “I remember he had a peanut butter cookie when he was little. I didn’t think…”

 

“No peanuts…he just had plain waffles with butter,” Harry said quietly.

 

“Where is the potion phial?” the healer frowned.

 

Hermione stood up and held it out, “I thought it might be important. I was suspicious it was an allergic reaction. I’m allergic to bees…”

 

She was, which was why one day before she was friends with Harry and Ron, that she’d looked up charms to keep them away.

 

Oliver smiled at her, “Thank you. I should have done that…Pucey had his arms full.”

 

Pucey flushed.

 

“Sloppy!” Healer Smythe spat startling them all. “Irresponsible! Pomfrey! You got peanut oil on this potion’s phial. It mixed into the potion and almost poisoned your patient.”

 

The medi-witch looked stricken, “I made Mr Creevey a peanut butter sandwich. He’s been ill for weeks. I wanted to see if he would keep it down. I must have forgotten to wash my hands.”

 

“I’ll be informing the Mediwizard Guild of this Pomfrey and Lady Longbottom. I would be very careful Pomfrey if I were you.” Smythe pulled a potion out of his pocket and cast a spell that seemed as if bespelled it directly into Neville’s veins. 

 

“What was that?” Hermione asked curiously.

 

“A potion that should help him recover from exposure to peanut oil.” Smythe grumbled. “It was good that you called me young Master Pucey. After all, an incompetent medi-witch who recklessly exposed a patient to an allergen can’t be trusted.”

 

Pomfrey flinched.

 

Pucey looked vindicated.

 

Hermione remembered that he had told Pomfrey than she wasn’t to touch Neville and she offered to ‘save him the expensive by treating Neville for free.’

 

“Clearly,” Pucey spat, “free isn’t good enough. Who knows what you would have done if I let you touch him. If you still have yet to wash your filthy hands then you might have re-exposed him.”

 

Smythe pointed his wand at Pomfrey and her hands glowed. “She would have, she has peanut oil all over them. Sloppy cook as well as a sloppy healer, wait you aren’t a healer, are you? Like Slughorn I bet you couldn’t pass the tests, he’s still a Third Class Potions master and you couldn’t pass your Potions NEWT to enter healer training and had to settle for being a mere medi-witch. Clearly, abysmal History and Defence instructors are not all of the Current headmaster’s failings.” Smythe turned to Pucey, “I recommend he return to his bed and rest there away from her. I will inform the headmaster and his professors to grant him an extension on his homework. He should rest quietly for the rest of the day, read a book, sketch or nap. Your body has had quite the shock.”

 

“I guess I’ll have to take you to Hogsmeade my next weekend off then.” Oliver gave Neville a wane smile.

 

Neville seemed like he could breathe a little easier now when he replied sheepishly, “Sorry.”

 

Oliver glared at Pomfrey, “It’s not your fault. It was nice to meet you Pucey.” He held out his hand to the Slytherin Chaser, “I can see my fears that Neville was alone and friendless were for not. I’m glad he has all of you.” He gave Harry, Hermione, Dean and Seamus a bright smile. “Make sure he takes it easy. I promise to write you and make an appointment so you can tell Pucey our plans ahead of time.”

 

Pucey nodded sharply. “I’ll escort him to his bed myself. I’m sure Brecc’s looking after Apollo.”

 

“Would you like me to call on your grandmother, Nev? She really should know what Pomfrey did to you…” Oliver asked stopping to glance back at his cousin. “Take care of yourself,” Oliver said giving Neville’s hand a squeeze.

 

“No, you’d just make her come here to yell at me.” Neville blushed mumbling as he looked up briefly. “Thanks, everyone…”

 

“No problem.” Harry chimed in, “We were worried!”

 

“Aye,” Seamus piped up, “worried.”

 

“He had a concussion earlier should we still keep him awake?” Pucey asked the Healer while Oliver slipped away.

 

“Hm…” Smythe examined Neville’s head and found the small knot on the back of his head. “I think he will be able to sleep tonight. He just should be allowed to relax and rest. Something quiet, perhaps a book if it doesn’t cause his headache to return.”  Smythe went over to the potions cupboard and removed a potions phial, casting a cleansing charm to clean it. He examined it, “A Snape, that should be safe.” He handed it to Harry, “You’re in his dorm right?”

 

Harry grinned, “Yep, Dean, Seamus and I are Fourth Year Gryffindors with Neville.”

 

“So am I.” Hermione frowned.

 

Neville, Harry, Dean and Seamus laughed chorusing, “But you’re a _girl_.”

 

Hermione flinched even as she glared, “Obviously.”

Hermione grumbled

 

“Well, it looks like you’ll be well looked after.” Smythe nodded sharply.

 

Pucey gestured at the two Gryffindors visiting the other patient, “Perhaps, you ought to take a look at that young man too. We wouldn’t want his care to be compromised.”

 

Smythe inclined his head, “As you wish young Master Pucey. Do take care of yourself young Master Longbottom.”

 

Neville smiled tiredly, “I’ll try…”

 

With that the Healer left, leaving Neville and his friends alone to attend Dennis.

 

“Can you walk?” Pucey asked Neville, holding out his hand.

 

Neville took it and slid his legs over the edge, gently placing his feet on the ground. He tested his weight and his knees crumpled beneath him.

 

Quicker then Hermione could blink, Pucey caught him and held him up.

 

“You need a haircut.” Pucey teased, scrunching up his nose and picking Neville up.

 

“You sweep me off my feet.” Neville joked weakly.

 

Pucey laughed, “I try. Now let’s get you to bed.”

 

Neville blushed. 

 

It seemed to Hermione that Pucey pretended not to notice.

 

“Ba mhaith ifreann fuilteacha, Dean, a dheanann tu riamh gur le haghaidh Dom?” Seamus asked Dean and he raised an eyebrow.

 

“What did you say, Shay?” the taller dark-skinned boy asked quietly.

 

“I asked if you would do that for me,” Seamus said shyly.

 

“In a heartbeat. You need to teach me how to speak Gaelic.” Dean frowned.

 

“Beidh muid ag cleachtadh ina dhiaidh sin.” Seamus giggled.

 

“What?” Dean asked tilting his head.

 

“We’ll practice later,” Seamus promised with a mischievous wink.

 

Neville wrapped his arms around Pucey’s neck and rest his head on his shoulder his face turned towards the Slytherin Chaser’s jumper to hide his embarrassment.

 

Pucey continued along the corridors, turning every so often, winding his way up to the Gryffindor tower.

 

Neville cast his eyes up and he saw Harry and Draco talking quietly at the back of the group, their heads tilted towards each other.

 

Adrian stopped at the portrait of The Fat Lady and mumbled, “Balderdash,” before stepping in and ignoring the portrait’s protests to having snakes in her den.

 

Hermione was surprised that a Slytherin would know their password; then again he was a prefect right? It was probably mentioned at the first Prefects meeting or something…

 

As always they were met with the warm smell of cinnamon and an abundance of the colour red.

 

Not only did Adrian Pucey step into Gryffindor Tower like he belonged there, Malfoy did too only to stop frozen as soon as he had done so.

 

Harry grabbed his hand and Hermione saw them both freeze and look at each other blushing.

 

“Our dormitory is upstairs to the right; Neville’s bed is the closest to the door,” Dean said quickly.

 

Then Seamus pulled him to a red armchair by the fireplace. The common room was fairly empty, only a few younger year students with their noses in books or playing Wizarding Chess and Exploding Snap.

 

Pucey nodded in response to Dean’s comment as he held Neville closer to him and quickly climbed the circular stairs to the boy’s dormitory.

 

 “You really didn’t have to carry me all the way from the infirmary Adrian,” Neville said quietly.

 

Pucey pushed the door open with his foot and placed Neville down on the bed closest to the door.

 

 “I insisted. I wasn’t going to let that irresponsible Pomfrey touch you again. You don’t understand, and won’t for a while. I almost lost you.” They heard Pucey said as they reached the open dormitory door.

 

Neville scrunched his nose at that.

 

Pucey was stubborn and sternly gentle as he spoke. “Let me baby you.”

 

“W-what?” Neville sputtered.

 

“Take care of you? I’ll be your servant for the day.” Pucey said, bowing slightly with a huge smile on his face.

 

Hermione could see that Malfoy and Harry were still holding hands, giggling quietly as they crouched peeking into Harry’s dormitory.

 

“I can’t ask you to spend your Saturday with me.” Neville protested weakly.

 

“I wouldn’t rather spend it any other way, Nev. Let me get your sketch pad, maybe you can draw me while I’m here as a model and not from memory.” Pucey said smiling.

 

Neville made a squeaky noise but nodded.

 

Pucey quickly kissed his forehead before running off to retrieve his bag from Harry.

 

Harry held out the bag winking, “The big bad Slytherin chaser slave to my adorable clumsy friend? What will people say?”

 

“Hey!” Draco glared, “That’s my cousin I’ll have you know and he’s the nicest bloke I know! The most honourable Slytherin,”

 

Hermione snickered.

 

“It’s true!” Draco protested, “Marcus threw him off the team because he wouldn’t cheat!”

 

Pucey coughed, “That’s enough Draco. Why don’t you two do something useful? Like work on potions or something?”

 

Pucey turned back to Neville holding out the book bag triumphantly.

 

Harry pulled Draco into the circular dormitory, grabbing his bag and lying on his stomach before the dormitory’s fireplace.

 

Hermione felt left behind again, she looked sadly at Harry and then turned to go up to her own dormitory to get one of those needlework projects that Charity bought her. Maybe Charity wouldn’t be too busy and could help her with it.

 

At least Neville would be okay thanks to her quick thinking and Harry wasn’t alone…

 

Though she wouldn’t want to be Harry when Ron found out that Slytherins were in his dormitory…

 

Hermione had always been exceptional about making herself scarce when she wasn’t wanted…

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you think? Outstanding? Exceeds expectations? Acceptable? Poor? Dreadful? Troll?


	7. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione joins Harry and the boys for a study group only to have a surprising encounter in the library that leaves her ruffled. She is further disturbed by the events following the Halloween Feast...

Chapter 6

 

Harry had invited Hermione to a study session with Draco, Blaise Zabini, Dean, Seamus and Neville.

 

She was worried about Neville; he’d been ignoring Pucey lately…

 

Whenever he saw him, he walked away and if Pucey called out, Neville pretended not to hear…

 

Whatever was going through the boy’s mind she could only guess but she was glad the boys invited her because she had been feeling left out of their circle.

 

She knew Zabini was in Defence, Potions, Ancient Runes and Care of Magical Creatures with her the same as Draco was but she didn’t know him any better than Nott.

 

She looked up hearing familiar hurrying footsteps, to see as Harry darted out of the stacks.

 

Harry wrapped his arms around Malfoy’s head and covered his eyes whispering. “Guess who?”

 

“Hmm… well, I tell this stranger is a male, because of the sound of his voice, he has skinny little wrists, let me guess… Harry Potter?” Draco said smiling.

 

“Wrong!” Harry laughed.

 

Draco whirled around in his seat.

 

Harry held up his hands in defeat, “Kidding, kidding.”

 

Draco grumbled quietly as he patted the seat next to him.

 

Neville approached the table shyly, looking as if he didn’t think he belonged despite coming with Harry.

 

“Aye, Neville,” Seamus said, lifting his head to look at him.

 

“Hello Longbottom,” Draco said politely.

 

Harry interrupted him. “It’s Neville, Draco.”

 

“My apologies, Neville then,” Draco said at once.

 

Neville smiled at him.

 

Blaise and Dean nodded to him in greeting from where they were companionably working on Charms and Hermione smiled back.

 

“Neville, could you possibly help me with this ‘erbology project? I can’t seem to reach 5 feet on characteristics of a bubotuber. I always had trouble with the ruddy plant.” Seamus asked frowning.

 

“Sure! The visible part of which is said to resemble a large, thick, black slug, which also squirms to its own accord. The surface of a bubotuber is covered in shiny protrusions, which secretes thick yellowish-green pus that smells a lot like Muggle petrol when squeezed.” Neville said, sitting down beside Seamus looking more relaxed.

 

Dean and Blaise whispered quietly, pressed against the wall with their noses in a charms book.

 

While Harry noticeably scooted closer to Draco.

 

Needing a moment to breathe and stop feeling irrationally jealous and out of place, Hermione stood slowly, closing a thick book.

 

“Granger- I mean, Hermione,” Draco said, casting a glance at Harry, “could you grab me a reference book while you’re up? I’m about to help Harry with Potions.”

 

“Sure, Draco, just give me a minute. I want to get myself another book to read.” Hermione said with a small smile, before picking up her book and going down the nearest aisle.

 

Her homework was done really but she hadn’t had the heart to tell Harry especially when he’d sought her out and invited her.

 

Hermione finally glanced around the shelves once she was calm again and recognised where she was realising that Potions was just an aisle over. She darted into the aisle glancing through the titles and finding a book that would help Draco with the potions homework because she’d used it earlier that week.

 

Then deciding she wanted an Ancient Runes tome, Hermione walked quickly through the stacks until she reached the section.

 

Just as she spied the book she had chosen and reached for it, another hand reached in covering hers.

 

Hermione yelped.

 

“Oh my god…it’s you…Hermione Granger right?”

 

Hermione looked up startled to find a girl a bit taller then her wearing Slytherin robes, she swallowed, “Yes but I don’t know your name.”

 

The girl dropped her hand letting go of both Hermione and the book, snorting her face turning pink, “No more you should. I’m Mal Prewett. Slytherin if you couldn’t tell.”

 

Hermione blushed, her hand felt hot where Mal had touched it, “You’re not a Fourth Year, this book is advanced, are you a Fifth or Sixth Year?”

 

Mal scowled, “I’m a Third Year but I like reading. It’s not like I have friends. I’ve learned books making being lonely easier.”

 

“I can understand that they used to be my only friends too.” Hermione said quietly, “Right now, it feels like they are all that are keeping me sane.”

 

“You’re friends with Potter, so how could you know what it’s like to not have friends?” Mal blinked at her.

 

“I was too smart, I used to be called a show-off, prideful and unfair at my last school,” Hermione admitted painfully.

 

“Hard to believe but if you say so…” the girl looked upset to hear that but was that empathy and understanding in her eyes?

 

“It’s true, I don’t know why I’m telling you this…I never told anyone but Charity…” Hermione said shyly.

 

“Professor Burbage?” Mal blinked. “Oh right, she said you were her friend and came to talk to her sometimes.”

 

Hermione smiled, “Charity knows what it’s like to be lonely. She helps students to build them up so they can help themselves and others. I don’t know what I would have done last year without her. She’s still my friend even though I gave up her class.”

 

“Is she really trustworthy? I mean I heard she was Hufflepuff.” Mal said darkly.

 

“If you listen to the Sorting Hart they are supposed to be known for their loyalty and fairness,” Hermione said quietly.

 

“Not all Hufflepuffs are like that. Zacharias Smith is a bully and his friend Ernie Macmillan isn’t much better.” Mal grumbled.

 

“Macmillan was pretty harsh on Harry…” Hermione said sadly.

 

“Like Potter would be striking down Muggleborns when he’s got you for a friend. Though if his Muggle family is anything like mine, well I’d understand it if he hated Muggles.”

 

“Violence merely increases hate…adding deeper darkness to a night already devoid of stars. Darkness can’t drive out darkness: only light can do that.  Hate can’t drive out hate; only love can do that.” Hermione quoted.

 

“Martin Luther King Jr. A civil rights activist from across the pond.” Mal blinked.

 

“You’re a Muggleborn? I thought Prewett was a Wizarding name.” Hermione gasped in surprise.  


“I’m the daughter of a Muggle and a Squib, thank you for bringing up such a painful subject.” Mal snapped and then looked abashed, “Sorry.”

 

Hermione shook her head, “It’s alright. I shouldn’t have assumed. Truce?” she held out her hand.

 

Mal looked at her strangely, with the same expression Malfoy had when Harry did the same thing weeks ago. Then a smile crossed her face, lighting up her eyes and she wrapped her surprisingly calloused hand around Hermione’s, “Truce.”

 

The moment Mal’s hand touched her’s, Hermione felt a shock, driving the breath out of her lungs.

 

Her words to Ron struck her…

 

‘ _My sexual orientation is my own business. I suppose I should have to actually like someone to decide what it would be.’_

 

Looking at Mal and holding her hand, Hermione knew exactly what her sexual orientation was. She’d never been a real romantic, well believing in love at first sight and all that.

 

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Mal whispered.

 

“Like what?” Hermione asked her voice filled with awe.

 

“Like you just saw Botticelli's’s Venus or something.” Mal frowned.

 

“I just looked at you and it was like I just saw you for the first time…” Hermione whispered.

 

“You’re looking at me…that’s all I ever wanted,” Mal said equally soft.

 

Hermione smiled nervously, “I’m looking and I do see someone wonderful. Someone I would quite like to be my friend.”

 

“Friend…” Mal said that like she was tasting the word, “I can live with that.”

 

Hermione looked down at their still-joined hands and then the book in her other hand. “Oh dear…I totally forgot…I promised to bring this back to Draco.”

 

Mal scowled, “Malfoy?”

 

Hermione nodded, “He’s with Harry,”

 

Mal snorted, “That boy has been obsessed with him at least since I came to Hogwarts. Always watching him and sending death glares at Weasley.”

 

Hermione’s face fell at the mention of Ron.

 

“A boy like that doesn’t deserve you as a friend.” Mal said fiercely, “I hope Potter recognised how lucky he is to have you as a friend.”

 

Hermione gave her a tight smile, “He does but he’s getting to need more male company. Ron’s behaviour has sent him flying into Neville, Dean and Seamus’ company.”

 

“And leaves you on the outside looking in. I know the feeling.” Mal said darkly.

 

“I can tell you do. I really have to take this book to Draco.” Hermione said reluctantly as she let go of Mal’s hand.

 

“Wait!” Mal reached out to take the book they both had reached for that precipitated their meeting. “Take this. I can find another book. Have you read it before?”

 

Hermione shook her head as she took it and clutched it tightly, blushing fiercely. “No…I’ll be sure to bring it back quickly so you can read it.”

 

Mal smirked, “I have a better idea, check it out and when you’re done find me and then we can talk about it.”

 

“Alright,” Hermione said brightening.

 

Mal reached up to cup her cheek, “It was a pleasure to finally meet you, Hermione Granger.”

 

Hermione shivered, the gentle touch made her breasts hurt, her heart pound and to her complete embarrassment, she felt her panties sticking to her. “I feel the same way. I’m sorry but I have to go.”

 

Hermione stumbled away, face flaming. Barely paying any attention as she made her way back to the table where Draco was waiting for the potions book.

 

When Hermione appeared with the two books in her arms, she was still looking quite flustered.

 

“Whoa Hermione, getting two books too much work for you?” Draco asked, using her given name instead of her surname.

 

“Sorry I took so long, here is your potions book,” Hermione said nervously as she slid it across the table, still overwhelmed by meeting Mal.

 

Too distracted to really note that Draco Malfoy, who had called her a Mudblood many times and whom she had punched last year had called her by her given name without hesitance and even teased her.

 

 “Did you meet someone ‘Mione? Was it Ron?” Harry frowned at her.

 

“No, it wasn’t Ron,” Hermione said, blushing.

 

“But it was someone?” Neville winked as he leant over towards her.

 

“How can you tell?” Hermione protested weakly.

 

“I’m gay, Hermione,” Neville said sternly.

 

“Okay fine, I met a girl. That’s all I’m telling you.” She whispered, opening her book quickly and desperately wishing she could just fall through the floor.

 

Now she knew how Harry felt being teased about Malfoy…

 

Neville smiled as he turned back to help Seamus with the remaining feet he had left on the essay for Herbology.

 

XoooooX

 

Harry stood and stretched, yawning quietly. “Time for dinner and champion revealing,” Harry said, helping Draco up and then Hermione.

 

Coming second to Draco didn’t bother her, Hermione’s mind was still distracted by Mal so much that she couldn’t really tell you anything she’d been reading…

 

Which would be a first for a book addict with an eidetic memory…

 

She paused long enough to check out her book and then hurried to catch up.

 

As Harry’s best friend it was her duty to grill Draco Malfoy and check him out.

 

In the corridor, Blaise and Seamus delved into a conversation about magical creatures- since when were those two close?

 

Hermione began to talk to Draco about Hogwarts and was quite surprised to find out not only did he own a copy of Hogwarts: A History but he’d read every edition ever printed.

 

Hermione hadn’t managed that even though Hogwarts had a copy of every one of them.

 

Draco knew about Apparating being impossible, what she hadn’t known was what he had just said...

 

“What do you mean,” she whispered, “that the first Head Teacher of Hogwarts was Rowena Ravenclaw?”

 

“Just what I said Hermione, it’s in the very first edition. I don’t know why it was omitted in later ones but it’s true. She was a former queen of the Veela, retired you see and she’d met Gryffindor, Slytherin and Hufflepuff during her term as queen. They’d had numerous discussions on education; once she’d crowned the new queen they started really talking about building this place. Though I’m afraid they would be disappointed…” Draco frowned.

 

Behind them Dean and Harry were chatting about the tournament leaving Neville who lingered in the back, not talking to anyone.

 

“Neville!” Someone shouted.

 

They all stopped and turned back.

 

Adrian Pucey was sprinting down the stairs towards them.

 

“Um hi- oomph.” Neville started to say.

 

“Salazar’s wand, don’t you ever go two days without speaking to me again. I was worried sick, Neville.” Pucey said squeezing him tightly.

 

Beside her, Hermione heard Draco giggling.

 

“He was upset; brooding and growling at everyone. I hope they’ll be okay now.” Draco whispered almost wickedly- or was he meaning to confide in her his opinion?

 

“Maybe Neville will think twice before ignoring him,” Harry whispered.

 

Instinctively Neville wrapped his arms around Pucey’s neck and Hermione watched jealously as Adrian Pucey lifted him off the ground.

 

“I’m sorry Adrian, I really am. I just… I don’t want you to be chosen for the tournament… I’m so worried.” Neville mumbled.

 

Adrian squeezed him tighter, burying his face in Neville’s neck. “I promise I won’t get hurt Nev.” Placing the Fourth Year down, he kissed Neville’s forehead before pushing him towards his friends. “Go, I’ll see you there. I have to make a round before I head to dinner.”

 

Neville stumbled back towards them dazed.

 

Harry looped his arm through Neville’s and dragged him into the Great Hall.

 

Entering the Great Hall, Harry let go to give Draco a hug.

 

Neville looked as if he could feel the headmaster’s pointed glare burning through him and onto Harry as Harry and Draco separated and then headed to their respective house tables.

 

“Hermione, did you feel it too?” Neville whispered to her.

 

Hermione nodded, her face ashen white. Why was Dumbledore so upset about Harry and Draco being friends?

 

Not long after Adrian entered the Great Hall with a few younger students, Hermione noticed Neville was looking down into his lap rather than watching for Adrian.

 

They were greeted with the familiar Halloween speech and the feast was started while thousands of black bats flying overhead screeched to each other occasionally.

 

Hermione found her eyes darting more to Slytherin, not to look at Draco or Adrian this time but to look at Mal; drinking her in as she ate woodenly.

 

Neville merely nibbled at his dinner and finally, he placed his fork back down, instead of engaging in conversation with Harry and George.

 

But Hermione was too distracted to chide him for it…

 

After the feast, Professor Dumbledore had Filch bring the Goblet up to the Head Table again.

 

Placing it where the podium disappeared from, Dumbledore rest a hand on the side of the cup, smiling slightly.

 

Ludo Bagman was sitting on Karkaroff’s right, while Mr Crouch was next to Madame Maxime.

 

 “I wonder what they’re doing here…” Harry mumbled.

 

“They organised the Triwizard Tournament, didn’t they?” Hermione said softly. “I suppose they wanted to see it start.”

 

Neville bit his lip nervously, watching the Headmaster.

 

“The moment has come,” Dumbledore began, “the Triwizard Tournament is about to start. I would like to say a few words of explanation before the Goblet is ready to choose, just to clarify the procedure we will be following this year. But first, let me introduce, for those who do not know them, Mr Bartemius Crouch, Head of the Department of International Cooperation…” people politely clapped, “and Mr Ludo Bagman, Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports.”

 

Louder applause for Mr Bagman rang through the Great Hall. Bagman waved off the applause with his hand but smiled.

 

“Mr Bagman and Mr Crouch have worked tirelessly over the last few months on the arrangements for the Triwizard Tournament,” Dumbledore continued, “and they will be joining myself, Professor Karkaroff, and Madam Maxime on the panel that will judge the champions’ efforts.” The flame in the Goblet flickered slightly.

 

“The instructions for the tasks the champions will face have already been examined by Mr Crouch and Mr Bagman, and they have made the necessary arrangements for each challenge. There will be three tasks, spaced throughout the school year, and they will test the champions in many different ways: their magical prowess, their daring, their powers of deduction and of course, their ability to cope with danger.”

 

Silence filled the Hall...

 

“As you know, three champions will compete in the tournament,” Dumbledore went on as he patted the Goblet, “one from each of the participating schools. They will be marked on how well they perform each of the Tournament tasks and the champion with the highest total after the Third Task will win the Triwizard Cup. The champions will be chosen by an impartial selector: The Goblet of Fire.”

 

Had Hermione been more observant she might have noticed a malicious smirk cross someone’s face at the remark and that Dumbledore almost frowned at the Goblet of Fire once...

 

Beside her, Neville gulped audibly and bit his lip harder.

 

Dumbledore stroked the Goblet’s handle and everyone tensed as Headmaster looked around.

 

“The Goblet is almost ready to make its decision,” he said. “I estimate that it requires one more minute. Now, when the champions’ names are called, I would ask them to please to come up to the top of the Hall, walk along the staff table, and go through into the next chamber,” indicating to the door beyond the staff table, “where they will be receiving their first instructions.” Taking out his wand and giving a great sweep, Dumbledore extinguished all the candles, except for the ones in the pumpkins that adorned the tables, plunging the Great Hall into semi-darkness.

 

The Goblet was easily the brightest thing in the Hall, blueish-whiteness of its flames almost blinding Hermione despite the dark shadows that filled the Great Hall that was lit only by the pumpkin lanterns, the stars that shone down from the enchanted ceiling and the Goblet of Fire.

 

“Any second…” Fred mumbled from his spot beside George.

 

The flames inside the goblet turn red suddenly and sparks begin to fly.

 

Neville sucked in a breath as a charred piece of parchment flew from the goblet, into Dumbledore’s hand.

 

“The champion for Durmstrang will be Viktor Krum!”

 

“No surprises there!” Ron shouted as a storm of wild applause and cheering swept over the students.

 

Viktor rose from his place beside Montague and made his way along the head table before disappearing into the chamber beyond it.

                                                                                                         

“Bravo, Viktor! I knew you had it in you!” Karkaroff boomed loudly, as the chatter died down.

 

The goblet turned red again, and the second piece of parchment shot out, propelled by red flames.

 

“The champion for Beauxbatons is Fleur Delacour!” Dumbledore rumbled.

 

Immediately, a Veela-looking girl rose gracefully to her feet, flitted up to the staff table and into the next chamber.

 

Neville sucked in a breath again as the Goblet’s fire turned red again. He squeezed his eyes shut and crossed his fingers. “Not Adrian, not Adrian, please not Adrian…” He whispered.

 

His voice reaching Hermione’s ears due to the silence that fell over the Great Hall.

 

“Adrian Pucey! Hogwarts will be represented by Adrian Pucey!”

 

Beside her, Neville sounded as if he had bit back a sob and opened his eyes to see the Sixth Year Prefect get up from his table, all the Slytherins on their feet clapping.

 

Pucey tried to meet Neville’s eyes and smiled in their direction, but that smile quickly turned into a pained frown.

 

As quickly as he looked, he disappeared into the next chamber and Neville sagged as if his chest was filled with rocks that weighed him down.

 

“Excellent!” Dumbledore called happily as the last of the cheering died down. “Well, we now have our three champions. I am sure I can count upon all of you, including the remaining students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, to give your champions every ounce of support you can muster. By cheering your champion on, you will contribute in a very real,” then Dumbledore stopped speaking suddenly.

 

Shockingly the goblet had turned red again, sparks flying in every direction.

 

Another piece of parchment floats towards the old headmaster and he grabbed it. “Harry Potter.”

 

Harry turned frantically toward Hermione and Neville. “I didn’t put my name in, you know I didn’t.”

 

Hermione felt the blood drain from her face, oh sweet Merlin. The danger…why wasn’t Harry ever exempt from danger? People had died in the Tournament for Godric’s sake!

 

Neville was rocking back and forth, hissing whispers falling from his lips as tears poured down his face soaking his robes. He didn’t seem to hear Harry at all…

 

Neville seemed inconsolable as if his heart had been ripped out of his chest and he seemed almost hysterical in his still quiet sobbing…

 

Draco was out of his seat, his face red with anger.

 

“Harry Potter! Harry! Up here, if you please.” Dumbledore frowned as he called out Harry’s name again.

 

“Go on,” Hermione whispered, her voice quaking as she nudged Harry slightly.

 

“Professor this is unacceptable! Harry didn’t put his name in the Goblet! I was with him all day! He’s only fourteen; you can’t allow him to compete!” Draco yelled at the headmaster.

 

“Hush Draco,” Snape snapped at him from the dais where the head table was.

 

Draco glared at him but quieted though his lips were moving as if he were still protesting.

 

Hermione’s heart broke as she saw that Harry’s eyes were filled with tears but he bit his lip and shuffled towards the staff table.

 

‘He looks like he was going to his own execution,’ Hermione winced at that thought.

 

“Well… through the door, Harry,” Dumbledore said pleasantly, but his smile had completely vanished.

 

Harry moved along the teachers’ table and into the chamber.

 

Hermione did the only thing she could: rub Neville’s back and hum softly, knowing that empty words wouldn’t help either of them

 

Bagman followed closely behind Harry…

 

Then Professor Dumbledore, Mr Crouch, Professor Karkaroff, Madame Maxime, and Draco who was seemingly reluctantly escorted by Professor Snape entered the small chamber.

 

George whispered, “Not Harry…why Harry? Hasn’t he suffered enough? First losing his parents and then being sent to those horrible Muggles. He gets here and his broom nearly kills him! He has to deal with a Mountain Troll. A professor nearly strangles him. The next year he has a mad Bludger trying to kill him! Then Ron’s rat turned out to be a killer. Merlin, then this summer…and Ron, now this! He doesn’t deserve this tell me why? Why Fred?”

 

Then Nott was there pulling him into his arms, “I don’t know George…he’s suffered so much and he’s still kind. That takes a strong person. He’ll get through this. I know he will.”

 

“How do you know?” George sniffed.”

 

“Because he has you,” Nott said quietly. “He’ll need you to be strong for him. You were there right there every time he was in the air. You did your best to help him. Even becoming practically attached to him by a sticking charm.”

 

Neville didn’t hear any of that; he just shook crying as if his heart was breaking,

 

Hermione knew then that he didn’t just like Adrian Pucey; he loved him.

 

Hermione’s heart went out to him, she didn’t love Harry like that, like he’d said once, she was like his older sister. George was right, Harry didn’t deserve this… he should be free to watch the Tournament like everyone else.

 

Was this, another plot of You-Know-Who?

 

Hermione swallowed as soon as Harry returned and Adrian arrived to take care of Neville, Hermione was going straight to the Owlery to write to Sirius. Sure he was on the run but damn it, he had to know right?

 

Sirius was Harry’s godfather, Harry was going to be bereft and he was going to need someone…

 

Adrian ran from the chamber and into the Great Hall, still full of students watching the chamber door expectantly.

 

He ran down the steps and hurried to the Gryffindor table. “Neville!” He called out, skidding to a halt behind the boy who had his head on the table.

 

Hermione pulled away to let him comfort Neville.

 

Neville lifted his head and looked at Adrian, flinching slightly.

 

Adrian knelt beside him.

 

Neville looked away. “This is why I hadn’t talked to you since Saturday.”

 

“You were ignoring me then?” Adrian asked his eyes filling with pain and shock, and he looked stricken and hurt.

 

“Not ignoring, avoiding. I don’t want you to get hurt Adrian… I know you wouldn’t put yourself in a state of danger if you knew you couldn’t handle it, but Adrian, you don’t know what you’re up against… What if you get hurt? I’ll blame myself for not fighting against you entering.” Neville said through sniffling sobs.

 

Adrian forced Neville to spin around and threw his arms around him. “I promise you, Neville, I’ll swear on whatever you want me to, that I will not intentionally get myself hurt. I won’t do anything irrational and I promise you that I won’t let Harry get hurt. Neville, please look at me…” Adrian said pulling away to look into Neville’s eyes.

 

“I can’t Adrian… I’ll burst out in tears again… Please, just go back to your House; I’ll come find you when I think I can handle looking at you…”

 

Adrian stalked back to his own House table, straight for Montague, speaking quietly.

 

Montague stood abruptly and hugged Adrian, guiding him out of the Great Hall, just as Draco entered with Harry in his arms followed by a few of the adults as well as the other Champions Krum and Delacour.

 

Hermione was torn between a devastated Neville and Harry who was shaking in Draco’s arms.

 

Draco looked livid, alive with righteous anger.

 

The two of them came towards Gryffindor and Draco sat down like he belonged there in Harry’s empty seat and rocked Harry. “I’ll tell father. I’ll find some way to get you out of this. It’s as rotten as a spoilt potion! And as for Uncle Sev,” Draco glared at Snape, “if he thinks I’m going to back down or not write father he’s stirring his potion wrong. You’re not alone Harry, you’ve got us. We’ll stand behind you, we know you didn’t enter and they’d got no right to make you participate when it clearly violates the rules.”

 

“Just get me out of here before Adrian gets back okay?” Harry whispered. “I don’t want to steal his thunder. He’s the real champion.”

 

Draco lifted him carefully, “If you’ll open that door, it’s the same room as the first years wait in. It leads out to the corridor.”

 

Hermione jumped up and then frowned. “What about Neville?”

 

Dean smiled at her, “Shay and I’ll look out for him. Don’t worry. Just take care of Harry.”

 

Hermione smiled gratefully as she scurried ahead of Draco to open the antechamber door so Draco who was carrying a shaking Harry could follow.

 

They silently left the feast behind, heading out of the chamber into the Corridor Hermione asked softly, “Where are you going?”

 

“I don’t want to go to Gryffindor…” Harry whispered.

 

“Then come with me to the Owlery.” Hermione said surprising herself.

 

“Why?” Draco frowned.

 

“Because I want to send an owl and I want to use Harry’s owl.”

 

Harry shook, “Don’t tell him Hermione…he’ll come here! It’s not safe!”

 

“He’s your godfather and if he hears about it through the paper he’ll be even more upset. I’m not asking you to write it, just to let me use Hedwig. He has to know if you’re in danger. I bet it’s a plot of You-Know-Who like when he wanted the Philosopher’s Stone and the diary. What if Pettigrew’s involved? If we tell he can be caught and Sirius will be free. Then you can get away from the Dursleys forever.”

 

Harry sagged, “Alright. We can go to the owlery. I’ll let you borrow Hedwig.”

 

“You want to try to walk?” Draco asked quietly, “Or do you want him to carry you?”

 

“You can’t carry me all that way!” Harry gasped.

 

Hermione took out her wand and cast the feather light charm on Harry, “Now he can.”

 

“Could have done it without the charm,” Draco said sulkily.

 

“Well, now Harry can be sure that you won’t find him heavy,” Hermione said sweetly. “Off to the owlery.”

 

The three of them headed for the owlery to send a letter to Sirius and none of them knew what the outcome of it would be…

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you think? Outstanding? Exceeds Expectations? Acceptable? Poor? Dreadful? Troll?


	8. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

 

Surrounded by her equals after a fashion, Mal was quite alone.  
  
Despite Professor Burbage’s offer of a listening ear, Mal found confiding in anyone a difficult task even her adopted mother Bethne, that wasn't official yet but legally she was in their custody.  
  
Her silent admiration of Hermione Granger was her only companion.  
  
Her homework completed, Halloween found Mal wandering the library uncertain of what she wanted to read. Reading was her only real entertainment and books had become the closest thing she had to friends.  
  
Despite the intrusion of Dean and Seamus as well as Seamus’ family, Mal didn’t consider them friends.  
  
Then deciding she wanted an Ancient Runes tome, Mal walked quickly through the stacks, until she reached the section.  
  
Just as she spied the book she had chosen and reached for it, another hand and she found hers covering another’s.  
  
A feminine voice yelped.  
  
“Oh my god…it’s you…Hermione Granger right?” Mal gasped stunned.  
  
Hermione looked up startled no doubt to find a girl a bit taller then her wearing Slytherin robes and she swallowed, “Yes but I don’t know your name.”  
  
Mal dropped her hand letting go of both Hermione and the book, snorting as she felt her face turning pink, “No more you should. I’m Mal Prewett. Slytherin if you couldn’t tell.”  
  
Hermione blushed, “You’re not a Fourth Year, this book is advanced, are you a Fifth or Sixth Year?”  
  
Mal scowled, “I’m a Third Year but I like reading. It’s not like I have friends. I’ve learned books making being lonely easier.”  
  
“I can understand that, they used to be my friends too.” Hermione said quietly, “Right now, it feels like they are all that are keeping me sane.”  
  
“You’re friends with Potter, so how could you know what it’s like to not have friends?” Mal blinked at her.  
  
“I was too smart, I used to be called a show off, prideful and unfair at my last school.” Hermione admitted painfully.  
  
“Hard to believe but if you say so…” Mal was upset to hear that, sympathy and understanding flooded her  
  
“It’s true, I don’t know why I’m telling you this…I never told anyone but Charity…” Hermione said shyly.  
  
“Professor Burbage?” Mal blinked. “Oh right, she said you were her friend and came to talk to her sometimes.”  
  
Hermione smiled, “Charity knows what it’s like to be lonely. She helps students to build them up so they can help themselves and others. I don’t know what I would have done last year without her. She’s still my friend even though I gave up her class.”  
  
“Is she really trustworthy? I mean I heard she was Hufflepuff.” Mal said darkly.  
  
“If you listen to the Sorting Hat they are supposed to be known for their loyalty and fairness,” Hermione said quietly.  
  
“Not all Hufflepuffs are like that. Zacharias Smith is a bully and his friend Ernie Macmillan isn’t much better.” Mal grumbled.  
  
“Macmillan was pretty harsh on Harry…” Hermione said sadly.  
  
“Like Potter would be striking down Muggleborns when he’s got you for a friend. Though if his Muggle family is anything like mine, well I’d understand it if he hated Muggles.”  
  
“Violence merely increases hate…adding deeper darkness to a night already devoid of stars. Darkness can’t drive out darkness: only light can do that.  Hate can’t drive out hate; only love can do that.” Hermione quoted.  
  
“Martin Luther King Jr. A civil rights activist from across the pond.” Mal blinked.  
  
“You’re a Muggleborn? I thought Prewett was a Wizarding name.” Hermione gasped in surprise.  
  
“I’m the daughter of a Muggle and a Squib, thank you for bring up such a painful subject.” Mal snapped and then looked abashed, “Sorry.”  
  
Hermione shook her head, “It’s alright. I shouldn’t have assumed. Truce?” she held out her hand.  
  
Mal looked at her strangely, then a smile crossed her face, lighting up her eyes and she wrapped her hand calloused from cleaning around Hermione’s, “Truce.”  
  
The moment Hermione’s hand touched her’s, Mal felt a shock, driving the breath out of her lungs.  
  
“Why are you looking at me like that?” Mal whispered.    
  
“Like what?” Hermione asked her voice filled with awe.  
  
“Like you just saw Botticelli's Venus or something.” Mal frowned, the look and tone were unnerving to someone who’d nearly always been a pariah.  
  
“I just looked at you and it was like I just saw you for the first time…” Hermione whispered.  
  
“You’re looking at me…that’s all I ever wanted,” Mal said equally soft.  
  
She was stunned by her own honesty, but the words clearly rang with truth and she instantly realised she felt as if she could trust Hermione Granger.  
  
Hermione smiled nervously, “I’m looking and I do see someone wonderful. Someone I would quite like to be my friend.”  
  
“Friend…” Mal said as if she were tasting the word, “I can live with that.”  
  
Hermione looked down at their still-joined hands and then the book in her other hand. “Oh dear…I totally forgot…I promised to bring this back to Draco.”  
  
Mal scowled, “Malfoy?”  
  
Hermione nodded, “He’s with Harry,”  
  
Mal snorted, “That boy has been obsessed with him at least since I came to Hogwarts. Always watching him and sending death glares at Weasley.”  
  
Hermione’s face fell at the mention of Ron.  
  
“A boy like that doesn’t deserve you as a friend.” Mal said fiercely, “I hope Potter recognised how lucky he is to have you as a friend.”  
  
Hermione gave her a tight smile, “He does but he’s getting need more male company. Ron’s behaviour has sent him flying into Neville, Dean and Seamus’ company.”  
  
“And leaving you on the outside looking in. I know the feeling.” Mal said darkly.  
  
“I can tell you do. I really have to take this book to Draco.” Hermione said reluctantly as she let go of Mal’s hand.   
  
“Wait!” Mal reached out to take the book they both had reached for that precipitated their meeting. “Take this. I can find another book. Have you read it before?”  
  
Hermione shook her head as she took it and clutched it tightly, blushing fiercely. “No…I’ll be sure to bring it back quickly so you can read it.”  
  
Mal smirked, “I have a better idea, check it out and when you’re done find me and then we can talk about it.”  
  
“Alright,” Hermione said brightening.  
  
Mal reached up to cup her cheek, “It was a pleasure to finally meet you, Hermione Granger.”  
  
The girl blushed and darted off into the stacks, leaving Mal alone.  
  
“Finally!” came a voice behind her.  
  
Mal spun around glaring.  
  
Peeking around a shelf was Professor Burbage who was grinning, looking very much like the cat that got the cream.  
  
“Spying? Isn’t that beneath your Hufflepuff ideals?” Mal said bitterly, her wonderful meeting seemed tainted.  
  
“I was looking for my sister Irma when I heard your voices and well I had to know how that went.” Then her Muggle Studies professor clapped her hands beaming, “I’m so glad that you two met and she likes you! I had hoped you know, I could tell you liked her and wanted to be her friend. Hermione has a large and gentle heart but it’s also fiercely protective. The Sorting Hat knew what it was doing when it placed her in Gryffindor rather than Ravenclaw.”  
  
“With brains like hers, she ought to have been a Ravenclaw,” Mal grumbled.  
  
“You my dear have a lot to learn about people.”  Charity said kindly, “Well I better be off. Good luck, I see being more than friends in your future and I’m always around if you need something.”  
  
Then as suddenly as Charity had intruded, Mal was alone. Suddenly she realised she didn’t want to be…  
  
Hermione Granger finally had looked at her and wonder of wonders she’d liked what she saw.  
  
It felt like a miracle…  
  
Heart in her throat, more nervous than she thought she had a right to be, Mal wandered through the library searching for Hermione.  
  
The girl’s back suddenly was in front of her…  
  
Mal felt decidedly stalker-ish as she made her way over to the nearest table that had a direct line of sight.  
  
A handful of Second Year Hufflepuffs had the decency to clear off.  
  
Mal sat down and leant her elbows on the table while resting her chin on her hands. She sat back to watch Hermione, the back of her neck was red…  
  
Was she still embarrassed or had the shock of their meeting struck a cord in her?  
  
Mal herself had not been unaffected…  
  
Her breasts ached, her mouth was dry and her womb spasmed, her heart hammered in her chest and she hungered to take Hermione in her arms again.  
  
Mal sat there not moving and silently breathing as she drank in Hermione, the girl shivered and Mal wondered if the older witch sensed her there.

XoooooX

It was nearly time for the Halloween feast when Harry Potter rose pulled the taller Malfoy and Hermione to their feet. The look he gave Malfoy was dazzling as if he were already in love.  
  
Draco Malfoy was a spoilt boy who lashed out at persons he believed slighted him. He also believed himself immune to common rules and etiquette because his father held a supposed position of respect. Yet rarely did Malfoy receive letters from him, the only time he ever to her knowledge saw his father at school was when he was brutally injured by a Hippogriff he had the idiocy to insult.  
  
Unobtrusively, Mal followed the group and got to witness prefect Pucey- one of the only decent people in Slytherin, call out to Longbottom and take him in his arms. There was something endearingly passionate as he held the Gryffindor; Neville wrapped his arms around Pucey’s neck and Pucey’s face buried in Neville’s neck. Mal wished it were her and Hermione standing there like that.  
  
Neville seemed dazed when Pucey finally let go and Harry had to lead him to the Great Hall.  
  
Entering the Great Hall, Harry let go of Neville’s arm to give Draco a hug.  
  
Mal scowled as she observed the headmaster’s pointed glare burning through Neville and onto Harry as the group ahead of her separated and headed to their respective house tables.   
  
“Hermione, did you feel it too?” Neville whispered to Hermione.  
  
Hermione nodded, her face ashen white.  
  
Mal decided that there was something unsavoury and possibly dangerous about Headmaster Dumbledore.  
  
Behind her, prefect Pucey had entered into the Great Hall with a few younger students but Neville looked down into his lap.  
  
The familiar Halloween speech and the feast were started while the thousands of black bats flying overhead screech to each other occasionally.  
  
To Mal’s secret delight she found Hermione’s eyes constantly being drawn to her like she had some sort of magnetic pull on the Gryffindor witch.  
  
Neville wasn’t eating but Adrian hadn’t seen quite yet because by the time he arrived the only open seat was with his back to Gryffindor.  
  
Mal ate a small amount, not used to eating much at home she was always careful to slowly increase her food intake at Hogwarts. She’d over eaten her first Feast and regretted it immensely.  
  
After the feast, Professor Dumbledore had Filch bring the Goblet up to the Head Table again.  
  
Placing it where the podium disappeared from, Dumbledore rests a hand on the side of the cup, smiling slightly.  
   
Ludo Bagman was sitting on Karkaroff’s right, while Mr Crouch was next to Madame Maxime.  
  
“The moment has come,” Dumbledore began, “the Triwizard Tournament is about to start. I would like to say a few words of explanation before the Goblet is ready to choose, just to clarify the procedure we will be following this year. But first, let me introduce, for those who do not know them, Mr Bartemius Crouch, Head of the Department of International Cooperation…” people politely clapped, “and Mr Ludo Bagman, Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports.”  
  
Louder applause for Mr Bagman rang through the Great Hall. Bagman waved off the applause with his hand but smiled.  
  
“Mr Bagman and Mr Crouch have worked tirelessly over the last few months on the arrangements for the Triwizard Tournament,” Dumbledore continued, “and they will be joining myself, Professor Karkaroff, and Madam Maxime on the panel that will judge the champions’ efforts.” The flame in the Goblet flickered slightly.  
  
“The instructions for the tasks the champions will face have already been examined by Mr. Crouch and Mr. Bagman, and they have made the necessary arrangements for each challenge. There will be three tasks, spaced throughout the school year, and they will test the champions in many different ways: their magical prowess, their daring, their powers of deduction and of course, their ability to cope with danger.”  
  
Silence filled the Hall….  
  
“As you know, three champions will compete in the tournament,” Dumbledore went on as he patted the Goblet, “one from each of the participating schools. They will be marked on how well they perform each of the Tournament tasks and the champion with the highest total after the Third Task will win the Triwizard Cup. The champions will be chosen by an impartial selector: The Goblet of Fire.”  
   
Mal noticed a malicious smirk cross someone’s face at the remark and that Dumbledore almost frowned at the Goblet of Fire once…  
  
‘What exactly was that person’s problem? Sure, they probably a bit mad, but rumour had it they’d always been that way.’ Mal wondered.  
  
Dumbledore stroked the Goblet’s handle and everyone tensed as Headmaster looked around.   
  
“The Goblet is almost ready to make its decision,” he said. “I estimate that it requires one more minute. Now, when the champions’ names are called, I would ask them please to come up to the top of the Hall, walk along the staff table, and go through into the next chamber,” indicating to the door beyond the staff table, “where they will be receiving their first instructions.” Taking out his wand and giving a great sweep, Dumbledore extinguished all the candles, except for the ones in the pumpkins that adorned the tables, plunging the Great Hall into semi-darkness.  
  
The Goblet was easily the brightest thing in the Hall, blueish-whiteness of its flames almost blinding Hermione despite the dark shadows that filled the Great Hall that was lit only by the pumpkin lanterns, the stars that shone down from the enchanted ceiling and the Goblet of Fire.  
  
The flames inside the goblet turn red suddenly and sparks begin to fly as a charred piece of parchment flew from the goblet, into Dumbledore’s hand.  
  
“The champion for Durmstrang will be Viktor Krum!”  
  
“No surprises there!” Ron Weasley shouted as a storm of wild applause and cheering swept over the students.  
  
Viktor rose from his place beside Sixth Year Brecc Montague and made his way along the Head Table before disappearing into the chamber beyond it.  
  
“Bravo, Viktor! I knew you had it in you!” Karkaroff boomed loudly, as the chatter died down.  
  
The goblet turned red again, and the second piece of parchment shot out, propelled by red flames.  
  
“The champion for Beauxbatons is Fleur Delacour!” Dumbledore rumbled.   
  
Immediately, a Veela-looking girl rose gracefully to her feet, flitted up to the staff table and into the next chamber.  
  
The Goblet’s fire turned red again, a third charred scrap of parchment soared on a finger of flame to the Headmaster’s hand while silence that fell over the Great Hall.  
  
“Adrian Pucey! Hogwarts will be represented by Adrian Pucey!”  
  
There was a stunned shock at first and then Slytherin rose to their feet as one. The sound of their applause thundered through the Great Hall.  
  
Pucey tried to meet Neville’s eyes and smiled in the Gryffindor’s direction as he passed that table, but that smile quickly turned into a pained frown. As quickly as he looked, he disappeared into the next chamber and Neville sagged as if his chest was filled with rocks that weighed him down.  
  
“Excellent!” Dumbledore called happily as the last of the cheering died down. “Well, we now have our three champions. I am sure I can count upon all of you, including the remaining students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, to give your champions every ounce of support you can muster. By cheering your champion on, you will contribute in a very real,” then Dumbledore stopped speaking suddenly.  
  
Shockingly the goblet had turned red again, sparks flying in every direction.  
  
Another piece of parchment floats towards the old headmaster and he grabbed it. “Harry Potter.”  
   
Harry turned frantically toward Hermione and Neville, gesturing in a denial of some kind.  
   
Mal was sure that he’d been with members of that study group all day…  
  
He’d failed to approach the cup for any reason and when he saw people putting their name in it was awe and fear. In watching Hermione Granger she’d watched the girl’s friends Potter and Weasley only Weasley wasn’t much of a friend.   
  
To be honest which she rarely bothered with. Not that she lied actually she just preferred to avoid mentioning uncomfortable things but honestly, Weasley wasn’t much of a friend.   
  
Not like the unreserved friendliness and almost naïve lack of desire for reciprocation that Dean and Seamus exhibited to her and Neville Longbottom. Weasley always seemed to demand things from attention, a sort of worshipful respect and adoration as well as a complete agreement with his perception and opinions.  
  
Her musing was interrupted by Dumbledore’s cold voice and Draco climbing out of his seat, his face red with anger.  
  
“Harry Potter! Harry! Up here, if you please.” Dumbledore frowned as he called out Harry’s name again.  
  
Hermione whispered something as she nudged Harry slightly.  
  
“Professor this is unacceptable! Harry didn’t put his name in the Goblet! I was with him all day! He’s only fourteen; you can’t allow him to compete!” Draco yelled at the Headmaster.  
  
Malfoy was a pureblood and they were supposed to retrain their emotions and project a serene mask to the world but Malfoy was vibrating with fury.  
  
“Hush Draco,” their Head of House Professor Snape snapped at him from the dais where the head table was.  
  
“Well… through the door, Harry,” Dumbledore said pleasantly, but his smile had completely vanished.  
  
Harry moved along the teachers’ table and into the chamber but the glance she had was of Potter wanting to fall through the floor, he was frightened.  
  
Draco glared at him but he quieted quite a bit, though his lips were moving as he was still protesting, his words drifting to her.  
  
“Stupid Dumbledore! Uncle Sev, you are the most stubborn individual on the planet! Harry wouldn’t enter the Tournament just look at him! He looked like he’d going to be tortured or killed damn it!” then Malfoy started growling in French…  
  
Which Mal had taught herself after learning Latin, Romance languages like Italian, French and Spanish were relatively easy.  
  
“C'est des conneries!”  
  
Which Mal translated as: ‘this is bullshit!’  
  
Quite a few Slytherins flinched at that including Blaise Zabini.  
  
“Tu commence Ã m'enmerder Oncle Severus! Tu es con.”  
  
‘You’re starting to piss me off Uncle Severus! You’re an idiot.’  
  
Strong words from Malfoy who normally respected Professor Snape and rumour had it that he was their Head of House’s favourite student.  
  
Something had changed about their relationship at the end of last year. Malfoy had grown reflective and moody during the short period Snape was absent from his usual duties.  
  
Blaise scowled as he lectured Draco in French, “That’s not going to help Harry!”  
  
The look Blaise received was pure fury and Draco stormed through the Great Hall heading straight for the Head Table his spine straight and his air defiant.   
  
Bagman had already entered the antechamber having followed closely behind Harry…  
  
Professor Dumbledore, Mr. Crouch, Professor Karkaroff, Madame Maxime, Professor McGonagall and Draco who was seemingly reluctantly escorted by Professor Snape entered the small chamber.   
  
Thought it was probably more because Hogwarts’ champion was a Slytherin.  
  
Slytherin, a maligned House was chosen as their School’s representative.  
  
The look Montague was giving the cup was malignant, “Vucking cup! ‘hy Yotte’? ‘hy Atrian? ‘hy Vi…Viktor?  You’re going to be the death of me… zis business stinks aloud! I’m amasked, ‘ow to ‘andle zis!” his fists clenched. “I ned to ‘anit something!”  
  
[Fucking cup! Why Potter? Why Adrian? Why Vi…Viktor? You’re going to be the death of me. This business stinks foully! I’m at a loss how to handle this! I need to beat something!]  
  
Half of what he said was completely unintelligible…  
  
Where the hell was he from?  
  
“Oh dear…” Ayla Malfoy whispered to Maia Greengrass, both of whom were in her year.  
  
Maia frowned, “What’s wrong?”  
  
“Brecc’s angry…” Ayla said shifting away.  
  
“How can you tell?” Maia asked.  
  
“He’s talking in Wiltshire dialect and he never does that… not publicly anyway…”  
  
Slytherin quieted and they, like the others still in the Great Hall waited for the champions to return.  
  
It seemed to take forever…  
  
Theo Nott was halfway to Gryffindor before Mal noticed he’d left the table.  
  
He wrapped his arms around the new Sixth Year Gryffindor Prefect George Weasley and held him while Hermione's former friend Ron Weasley looked on in disgust.   
  
Finally, Pucey ran from the chamber and into the Great Hall, still full of students watching the chamber door expectantly.  
  
He seemed oblivious to the cheers that arose from Slytherin first and then Ravenclaw…  
  
Hufflepuff and Gryffindor were slow to follow.  
  
Pucey ran down the steps and hurried to the Gryffindor table. “Neville!” He called out, skidding to a halt behind the boy who had his head on the table.  
  
Mal watched as Hermione pulled away as if acceding to his right to comfort Neville.  
  
Neville lifted his head and looked at Pucey, flinching slightly and Pucey knelt beside him.  
  
Neville looked away.   
  
Pucey’s eyes were reflecting pain and shock, and while his face almost looked for a moment as if he were stricken and hurt by whatever Longbottom was saying.  
  
Neville appeared to break out into fresh but thankfully silent sobs.   
  
Pucey forced Neville to spin around and threw his arms around him while talking to him. Eventually, Pucey pulled away to look into Neville’s eyes.  
  
Adrian stalked back to his own House table, straight for Montague, speaking quietly. “Brecc, please come back to the common room with me…”   
  
The rest of what the two prominent Sixth Year Slytherins lost…  
   
Montague stood abruptly and hugged Adrian, guiding him out of the Great Hall, just as Draco entered with Harry in his arms followed by a few of the adults as well as the other Champions Krum and Delacour.  
  
Mal was surprised, Pucey normally behaved with perfect decorum. What had happened between him and Longbottom?  
  
Why was he so depressed that he would leave before they could properly congratulate him?  
  
Soon after their taking a seat at Gryffindor’s table, Hermione led them back out of the Great Hall to the antechamber that all First Years waited in and was just used by the participants of the tournament.  
  
Knowing she was practically a non-entity in Slytherin, Mal rose silently and slipped from the chamber. Scurrying towards where the antechamber opened onto the main corridor, Mal stopped at the corner.   
  
Hermione asked softly, “Where are you going?”  
  
“I don’t want to go to Gryffindor…” Harry whispered.  
  
“Then come with me to the Owlery.” Hermione said looking surprised at herself.  
  
“Why?” Draco frowned.  
  
“Because I want to send an owl and I want to use Harry’s owl.”  
  
Harry shook, “Don’t tell him Hermione…he’ll come here! It’s not safe!”  
  
“He’s your godfather and if he hears about it through the paper he’ll be even more upset. I’m not asking you to write it, just to let me use Hedwig. He has to know if you’re in danger. I bet it’s a plot of You-Know-Who like when he wanted the Philosopher’s Stone and the diary Second Year. What if Pettigrew’s involved? If we tell he can be caught and Sirius will be free. Then you can get away from the Dursleys forever.”  
  
Harry sagged, “Alright. We can go to the owlery. I’ll let you borrow Hedwig.”  
  
“You want to try to walk?” Draco asked quietly, “Or do you want him to carry you?”  
  
“You can’t carry me all that way!” Harry gasped.  
  
Hermione took out her wand and cast the feather light charm on Harry, “Now he can.”  
  
“Could have done it without the charm,” Draco said sulkily.  
  
“Well, now Harry can be sure that you won’t find him heavy,” Hermione said sweetly. “Off to the owlery.”  
  
Casting a notice-me-not on herself and a silencing charm on her feet, Mal followed.  
  
Now she really was stalking Hermione…  
  
Damn it!  
  
Who was Potter’s mysterious godfather? And wasn’t Pettigrew supposed to be dead? She remembered reading it in one of Killian’s Daily Prophets two Augusts ago…  
  
Silently, Mal followed them to the owlery.  
  
Potter’s familiar owl soared towards him and Malfoy let him down gently.  
  
“Hedwig! It’s nice to see you, are you alright?”  
  
The snowy owl let out an intelligible hoot and then nuzzled Potter.  
  
“I’m glad. Are you up for a long trip?”  
  
The owl looked positively indignant at the question.  
  
”Can you take a letter to Sirius for us? It’s very important. Hermione’s going to write it…”  
  
Hermione cast a cleaning charm on a window ledge that was sunken just enough to be called a seat.  
  
Pulling parchment, a quill and ink Mal watched as she wrote a letter, taking her wand and whispered a spell that probably erased so she didn’t have a letter full of inkblots and scratched out words.  
  
Finally she folded it and sealed it with conjured wax before handing it out to Harry.  
  
“I can’t read it?” Harry scowled.  
  
“It’s straight to the point. That you’re trapped by a so-called Magical Contract in a Tournament you never entered, the adults wouldn’t look into it and I have suspicions that it’s possibly part of a plan by You-Know-Who or one of his minions. I’ve asked him to tell me what he knows about magical contracts and if he knows the name of any solicitor that we can try to get to fight for your rights. I might have mentioned if he were unable to serve as your guardian whom your parents might have named in his stead. Someone’s got to listen and Sirius is still on the run, we need someone who will listen!” Hermione shrugged but her hand that was holding the letter was shaking.  
  
Harry took the letter but instead of opening it, he merely handed it to the owl, “As fast as you can without injuring yourself or endangering your life. I don’t want to lose you, okay?”  
  
The owl nipped his finger gently and then left with the letter clutched in its talons.  
  
“Now what?” Malfoy asked frowning.  
  
“I don’t want to face Gryffindor… will they believe me that I didn’t enter? Or will they call me a good-for-nothing cheater?” Potter said quietly.  
  
“They dare not,” Malfoy said sharply.  
  
“Ron will…”  
  
Malfoy sighed, “He never deserved you.”  
  
“What did I do to deserve a friend like him? Someone who was never a real friend to begin with? He just wanted to be friends with the Boy-Who-Lived…not Harry…” Potter whispered.  
  
“I once knew a boy who wanted more than anything to be friends with Harry Potter. He built up a picture in his head, he was lonely this boy and he believed that Harry Potter was a hero. He thought they could be friends and by being friends with someone like that he’d be someone important. Then he met him and he was nothing like he thought, in fact he didn’t even recognise him. It was a blow to have a chance to make a friend on his own without having his parents introduce them first and then to fail. Then this boy learned on his first trip to Hogwarts that his hero was on the train. He tried to befriend him but went about it all wrong. In fact, nearly every time he interacted with Potter it went badly. Why? Because the boy was immature, instead of admitting his behaviour was wrong, he tried to make himself believe that it was Potter’s fault.   
  
“Now Potter wasn’t a hero exactly but he did some so-called heroic things like facing monsters and rescuing damsels in distress. Instead of basking in the attention Potter did his best to avoid it, the only time he seemed to really believe he deserved any kind of adulation was if he caught the snitch. Being the youngest seeker in a century or the Boy Who Lived didn’t matter; neither did Quidditch though he enjoyed it well enough. It was flying, a rival seeker was usually more of a nuisance then a challenge until an arrogant blonde who had slightly more skill at Seeking then the others managed to make his House team. Instead of being proud of his own accomplishment, he again acted foolishly and spent much of the year speaking without knowledge.  
  
“Every year he learned more about Harry Potter who was not only very different from his childhood hero, he was better. After meeting someone like Gilderoy Lockhart, the boy should have realised that Harry Potter was the real thing compared to a selfish narcissist like Lockhart. Yet the boy failed to use his brain…he observed much but refused to objectively study his observations. Oh pride goes before a fall, which the boy had to learn the hard way. He…” Malfoy’s voice trembled.  
  
“He nearly lost an arm trying to show off, yet he still wouldn’t listen or use his brain. Eventually, he was woken up…he was forced to re-examine his previous preconceptions. Someone he greatly admired, seemed to have abandoned him, and when he found him finally he was shocked, horrified actually. Words were exchanged, vicious but honest observations about each other’s character. Coupled with chiding remarks from a respected cousin they worked upon the boy’s mind all summer. What did he want out of life? Who did he want to be? Did he want to become the sort of person his father was? How much of his father’s beliefs did he embrace? The Riot…it showed his father’s former associates to be brutes. People who tormented innocents for some sort of pleasure, it disgusted him. As he reached this revelation he was alone having lost his mother and sister…”  
  
Before Draco could continue, a familiar caw reached her ears.  
  
Mal groaned silently, what a time for Edgar to appear.  
  
Like her, her familiar Edgar Corvus Poe seemed to take affection on his terms.  
  
She slipped out into the hall, the last thing she wanted was to be caught spying even if she was under a notice-me-not charm. Edgar would give her away because he had no concept of silence or stealth…  
  
Mal glared at her raven when he flew out of the Owlery to land on her shoulder, “What were you doing in there? You are not an owl.” She hissed at him.  
  
Edgar landed primly on her shoulder and seemed to chide her.  
  
Mal ignored the bird as she reluctantly made her way to the dungeons.  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you think? Outstanding? Exceeds expectations? Acceptable? Poor? Dreadful? Troll?


	9. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

 

Hermione was on tenderhooks waiting to see how Sirius would respond to the news of Harry being in the Triwizard Tournament.

 

She hadn’t mentioned Draco at all, knowing that Sirius would probably disapprove and that was the last thing Harry needed.

 

She was very shy and her tentative friendship with Mal Prewett also heavily occupied her thoughts…

 

Especially, when she was very attracted to the girl…

 

She shivered remembering how she felt when Mal had touched her…

 

She was alone and working on her Ancient Runes assignment because Harry was off with the boys in Hogsmeade and she didn’t want to be a fifth wheel when someone sat in front of her.

 

It was Mal…

 

To her surprise sitting on Mal’s shoulder was a raven…

 

XoooooX

 

Mal smirked at Hermione as she set her book bag down on the table, “Potter disappeared on you again?”

 

“He’s off in Hogsmeade.” Hermione blushed.

 

“My new guardian bought me the raven. I think Alan is a pathetic name so I call him Edgar Corvus Poe.”

 

“You named a raven after the author of The Raven and the constellation?” Hermione gaped.

 

“Careful as Seamus’ mum would put it ‘open mouths invite brownies’.”

 

“The dessert?” Hermione blinked in surprise.

 

“No, I’ve determined it’s a type of Pixie or Fae that like Leprechauns are native to Ireland.”

 

“Do you spend a lot of time with Seamus’ family?” Hermione asked feeling slightly jealous.

 

Mal shrugged, “My brother Mark and Dean’s sister Dana were both surprisingly magical. They went to the same Muggle primary school up until this year because we lived in the same neighbourhood in West Ham. Apparently Dean knew they were and sent them copies of his notes from the last few years as well as giving them his old books. Dean and Seamus heard from Dana that things weren’t good at home because my mother thought I was a devil child. So they told Niamh and well she took me to her parents’ home two summers ago. This summer well, we were supposed to stay with our Muggle families for the whole of July but things happened and we ended up going early to Marcheness. I think Seamus’ grandmother wants to be our guardian; well mine and Mark’s anyway.”

 

Hermione took Mal’s hands in hers, “That’s terrible to not be wanted by your parents. Mine are busy a lot of the time but I know they love me…”

 

Mal coughed, “Then you’re lucky I suppose.”

 

Hermione was pink with embarrassment, her hands suddenly slick with sweat let Mal’s slip from her lax grip.

 

Mal swallowed, “So about that book we both wanted and you checked out…”

 

Stammering, Hermione told Mal all about the book in question explaining the various advanced theories on spell creation as well as how to invent new runes since one couldn’t use the same runes in the same pattern to make up a spell.

 

It wasn’t until an alarm spell went off that Hermione realised how long they’d been talking…

 

She hurriedly packed up her books, “Oh dear, I’m due in Hogsmeade in thirty minutes.”

 

Mal asked quietly, “Can I come?”

 

Hermione blushed, “Yes?” then a swift switching spell exchanged her heavy book bag for her muffler, gloves and coat.

 

Mal copied her and they headed out to the front door where they put their muffler, gloves and coat on before leaving the castle.

 

The wind was blowing and Mal unconsciously entwined her fingers with Hermione’s even as she stood to block the wind from giving her friend a chill.

 

Hermione’s face was warm beneath her muffler despite the cold wind; Mal’s hand had their fingers entwined.

 

Mal was a bit taller then Hermione was and made surprisingly a good shield against the wind.

 

Mal could hardly believe that she was walking towards Hogsmeade in the company of Hermione Granger of all people…

 

They were treated to strange looks but Mal held her head up high and retained her grip of Hermione’s hand as they passed through Hogwarts’ open gates on their nerve-wracking trip into Hogsmeade.

 

There was something different and yet comforting about being with Mal like this…

 

They strolled silently down the High Street to The Three Broomsticks.

 

Mal gallantly opened the door for Hermione and they went inside.

 

“Hey ‘Mione!” Harry called.

 

Hermione nervously led Mal over to her friends and shyly introduced her crush, “Hi guys…this Mal.”

 

Neville chuckled, “So this is that girl from the library?”

 

Seamus blinked, “Mal? You and Hermione?”

 

Mal scowled, “Got a problem with it?”

 

Dean shook his head, “We’re just surprised is all.”

 

Mal pulled out Hermione’s chair for her, “Butterbeer?”

 

Hermione smiled, “Thank you.”

 

Reaching into her pocket from money, only to have Mal shake her head, “My treat.”

 

XoooooX

 

No sooner had they all sat down with drinks, then an unfamiliar elf appeared wringing its hands.

 

“Master Theo! Master Theo, there be trouble at Hogwarts. Master must be coming right away. Its dreadful…Pokey was just in time. Lord Nott was screaming about clothes. She be crying and the dog be angry.”

 

Theo Nott dropped his mug of Butterbeer and it spilt on the table, “That bastard! I knew this would happen! I knew it! Where’s Ned? Three months? He can’t even last three months?”

 

George touched his arm, “Calm down Theo.” he turned to the shaking elf, “Is she all right?”

 

“Won’t stop crying. Puppy barely let Pokey near her. Oh Master…”

 

“Take us right now.” George said as he tried to calm Theo.

 

Then the elf that was apparently Theo’s Apparated them away leaving their companions shocked.

 

Being the only one of age at their table with George gone, Adrian quickly cast a cleaning charm to vanish the split Butterbeer.

 

Before any of them could really react to the news the elf had brought Blaise’s raised voice reached their ears.

 

“You know what? _Ma’ va te ne a fanculo._ I’ve waited my whole life for you, to feel the least bit of love. I don’t have anyone who loves me; I’m the _figlio di puttanta._ ” He stood abruptly, clearly ignoring the pain in his knees.

 

“Blaise wait!” the Weasley looking man called out.

 

Blaise ran away from the table, his eyes shimmering with tears.

 

“Blaise?” Draco called out as he reached to catch his wrist, but the Italian Veela didn’t seem to hear him and Draco missed his snatch.

 

Much like he missed the Snitch when flying against Harry Potter, Mal thought spitefully …

 

“Blaise wait!” the older man shouted.

 

Charlie threw a handful of coins on his table and tore off after the distraught boy.

 

Draco’s face was pale with anger as he rose hurrying after Blaise, then Harry immediately took off after him.

 

Neville swallowed, “You don’t think he’ll do anything foolish do you?”

 

“If he tries I know Draco will deal with it. Whatever the disagreement between him and Charlie was, I am surprised he handled it that way.” Adrian frowned. “I wasn’t really as close to him as Draco and Theo were. Theo was there for Blaise after Draco got himself attacked by a Hippogriff but whatever emergency called him back to Hogwarts, I’ve never seen him so angry.”

 

“Shouldn’t we check? I don’t know if George can restrain him if Theo’s really angry.” Dean frowned.

 

Seamus stood up, his face pale, “Dean, Pokey said Heraclio was angry and almost wouldn’t let her near him. Something really awful happened. We gave Heraclio to Gracie as a companion not as a protector.”

 

“Calm down, I’m sure he’s fine.” Dean tried to pull him down.

 

“No Dean, Heraclio might be a grey but he’s still an O’Shanesey dog and he’s Niall’s pup. He’s injured I know he is. Something terrible happened, Theo was very angry. When he said he was worried about Gracie I didn’t think he meant that she would be in danger.” Seamus protested, and then he turned to Adrian, “I know I’m a Gryffindor but would you let us into Slytherin to check on Gracie and Heraclio? If he’s hurt we’ll have to summon Lord Johnson, he’s the canine medic who looks after our dogs.”

 

Adrian frowned, “I suppose we’ll have to then. This business with the Notts troubles me and if his sister and her dog were attacked then something must be done. Theo is far too young to get custody.”

 

The group rose, leaving a tip and their drinks half drunk.

 

They hurried back to Hogwarts, following Adrian to a side entrance that opened onto a stair that led directly to the dungeons.

 

Hermione’s hand held tightly in Mal’s, being neglected and verbally abused by her own mother, Mal was not happy to hear about another little girl being mistreated.

 

They hadn’t been there very long before Adrian stopped before a stonewall and spoke the password.

 

A door appeared which Adrian opened.

He made his way up the staircase to the Fourth Year boys’ dormitory.

 

They had no sooner opened the door then a growl was heard.

“Heraclio, be quiet.” A soft girlish voice reached their ears.

Seamus called out, “Gracie? It’s Seamus…”

“Seamus? You’re a Gryffindor. How did you get here?” the girl called back in a shaky voice.

 

“Dean is here too with Abby and Niall. Is Heraclio okay?”

“He was hurt and it’s all my fault.” The girl sniffed, “I knew I was supposed to stay in the Nursery.”

“Can I see him?” Seamus asked quietly.

“Theo told me to stay here. Did he send you?” Gracie swallowed.

“We overheard Pokey tell him there was trouble and Heraclio was angry.” Seamus told her gently.

“He tried to protect me…” Gracie sobbed, “Father said he was going to cut Heraclio’s head off and send it to Theo. He said I was useless and that Theo did a bad thing introducing me to people. He promised to hurt Theo.”

Adrian’s wolf was angry; a man hurt a little girl and a dog? What sort of monster was he?

“Can I come take a look at Heraclio?” Seamus whispered.

“George fixed him up but Heraclio is still upset.” Gracie sniffled.

 

Seamus took slow measured steps towards the bed that Gracie’s wavering voice came from. He pulled back the curtain and gasped; the pretty little girl was covered in bandages and looked more like an Egyptian mummy then a girl. The bandages on Heraclio made Seamus upset. He whispered a curse in Gaelic.

 

The others must have come up behind them.

Neville and Hermione burst into tears; immediately Mal pulled Hermione into her arms.

Then a pop resounded in the stone chamber.

A vaguely familiar voice called out, “Gracie?”

 

The girl looked up, “Ned? Neddy! I’m sorry! It’s my fault! I disobeyed and father hurt Heraclio.”

 

The Gryffindor scurried forward, “Merlin, Gracie…”

Adrian grumbled, “Where’s Theo?”

“With George mucking around. He took on father and father is in St. Mungos. Legally,

Theo is Lord Nott apparently.” Ned scowled.

Gracie tugged on his sleeve, “Is Theo okay?”

Ned smiled at her, “You know Theo, he’s invincible.”

“In the absence of your brother and as the highest ranking Slytherin, unfortunately as adorable as she is, we really can’t hide a girl in the boys’ dormitory.” Adrian said sternly.

Ned frowned, “Why not? She’s slept here before.”

Adrian sighed, “It’s not wise to allow it to continue, someone might get the wrong impression.”

 

“Theo’s bent and he’s like our dad.” Ned scowled.

 

“Unfortunately at his age, Lord Nott or no, no one will give him custody of you two.”

Adrian mused, “We’ll have to find a suitable guardian.”

“Theo said all of our relations are dead or Death Eaters.” Ned grumbled.

“There has to be someone…” Adrian paced, “What was your mother’s name?”

“Prince?” Ned frowned, “Evelyn Prince.”

“We’ll just have to talk to invite Theo to a conference with Professor Snape. Snape would listen to us and give us some good advice.”

 

Ned groaned, “Theo would never go for it.”

Hermione and Mal watched as Seamus put out his hand for Heraclio to sniff, muttering to him softly. Abby whined and jumped onto the bed, curling around her pup and the little girl. Neville squatted down besides the bed, tears leaking from his eyes.

 

“Hi Gracie, I’m Neville.” His voice shook a bit and the little girl bite her lip gently.

 

“Hello Neville… Why are you crying?”

 

Knowing that Theo’s home life must be terrible, Hermione who had affectionate but workaholic parents squeezed Mal’s hands.

 

In Mal’s house where she had lived with Mark, Miram and their parents, her siblings were treated as precious and spoilt while Mal was ‘Cinderella’…

 

Living with a parent that could do this was worse then Mal had fathomed…

 

Then again she had sort of seen what Dean and Seamus looked like after Dean’s mother lost it and tried to beat Dean half to death. Thank Merlin, when both their mothers came unhinged the same morning that neither had magic or else they might have ended up looking very much like Gracie.

 

Neville smiled at Gracie through his tears, “I’m crying because I’m glad you’ll be okay.”

 

“But you don’t even know me.” Gracie reached for Neville’s hand and he let her take it.

 

Ned had his arm wrapped around her shoulders, thought he seemed careful not to put too much pressure on her bandages.

 

Hermione’s silent weeping over the little girl on the bed who looked like a mummy and the injured and protective puppy made her suspicious of how Hermione would react to her own unhappy childhood in the West Ham district of London.

 

Draco and Harry appeared just as Adrian seemed about to leave the room.

 

“What the hell is going on here?” Draco snarled.

 

“Aye, watch your mouth.” Seamus said, looking up from Heraclio.

 

Even Mal had issues with using such language around a child...

 

“Sorry. Do we need to alert anybody about this?” Draco said hastily.

 

Theo appeared from behind Draco; he was shockingly taller then when they’d last seen him in _The Three Broomsticks_ and his hair covered his forehead in a fringe.

 

“What are you all doing up here?” He angrily shoved past Draco and Harry, making straight for his bed.

 

Abby leapt away from the bed, as if sensing Theo’s anger and she instinctively herded Seamus towards Dean.

 

Mal pulled Hermione closer and moved them farther from the area between the door and Theo’s bed.

 

Neville stood and backed away, dropping Gracie’s hand on the bed and appeared torn between standing with Seamus and Dean or standing beside Adrian. In the end he seemed to reluctantly chose Seamus and Dean…

 

“Theo, we can’t leave her up here. It would be best if we contact Professor Snape and let him deal with this. He is our Head of House and your relative.” Adrian advised.

 

“He’s a Death Eater. If he comes anywhere near my sister he’ll be cursed to hell. I’ll be damned if I put her in the power of another Death Eater.” Theo snarled.

 

“Uncle Sev would never hurt her. He helped the Ministry during the attack at the World Cup. Let him help Theo.” Hermione watched as Draco glanced over at Gracie who was clutching her very large puppy to her. “The only reason he’s still here is to help us, he doesn’t want any of us to be forced to follow in our fathers’ footsteps.”

 

Adrian heard a whimper and noticed Harry’s look of distress.

 

Hermione flinched at the sound, her eyes being pulled towards Harry.

 

Apparently in Theo’s anger, when he’d shoved Harry into Draco he must have hurt him…

 

Because the Seeker subconsciously was rubbing his left arm and backing up slowly…

 

Hermione’s first impulse was to go to her friend but Draco took notice and pulled Harry to him, but not before shooting a worried look at Hermione.

 

Mal watched silently as Hermione seemed to have some idea of why he reacted like this, the look in Draco Malfoy’s face implied even as he tried to soothe Harry that they were going to talk and soon.

 

Adrian took a step towards Theo who snarled.

 

“I don’t wish to inflict any harm upon you or your family Theo, but I will fight you on this. You may be an adult by Ministry standards but you are not of age to raise children. Professor Snape is a relative of yours from your mother’s side and he will help you. You are Lord Nott, but you need to understand that these two need an adult to raise them. You need the chance to be their older brother, not their father. I promise that Severus won’t hurt your family, and if he tries, which he won’t, I will protect them with my life.” Adrian took another tentative step towards Theo.

 

Only the boy growled again, “Protecting them is my job, not yours Pucey.”

 

Mal didn’t know anyone other then Warrington or Flint who called Pucey by his last name with such hostility.

 

Adrian stiffened, his spine straightening. “I really hate to play this card Theo, but as a Slytherin Prefect and its King I demand you let me call Professor Snape to help us solve the matter at hand.”

 

Mal watched as Neville blushed and bit his lip out of the corner of her eye, while Adrian seemed to notice he still maintained eye contact with Theo the entire time.

 

Mal could see the hair bristling on the back of the Fourth Year’s neck but Theo’s eyes lowered in defiant submission.

 

“I don’t think this is a good idea at all…” Theo hissed.

 

“Wallie.” Adrian barked.

 

Immediately a house elf appeared, looking up at Adrian with large eyes.

 

“Yes Master? What Master Adrian be needing?”

 

“Go find Professor Snape and tell him we require his attendance in the boys’ fourth year dormitory immediately. It is imperative that he comes at once.” Adrian’s voice was firm when he gave the house elf the order.

 

As Wallie disappeared with a pop and Adrian turned to George. “Should I send for a Healer and proper authorities or allow Professor Snape to do it?”

 

George didn’t have much time to consider the question before Professor Snape and their former Defence professor Remus Lupin come thundering up the steps to the dormitory.

 

“I got a message that my attendance was required. Mr. Pucey, I expect you have a valid…” Snape trailed off when he scanned the room that was unusual crowded with boys, most of whom did not sleep there when his eyes landed on Theo’s bed and they softened immediately.

 

Professor Lupin placed his hand on Professor Snape’s shoulder as if to reassure him or something and moved to stand beside him.

 

“Professor Lupin…” Harry said breathlessly, Hermione noticed he was very surprised to see their former Defence professor.

 

Professor Lupin smiled kindly at him, “Hello there, Harry.”

 

“Remus, go call Healer Smythe.” Professor Snape said, turning to look the ex-Professor.

 

Professor Lupin’s eyes dart to the bed Theo was standing in front of in what clearly was a defensive posture. Gracie’s eyes meet his and he turned pale.

 

“Remus.” Snape said in a tone that most of the students recognized as an ‘do as I said or else’ tone…

 

Professor Lupin snapped out of it and hurried from the room.

 

“Lolly.” Professor Snape barked.

 

Immediately, an unfamiliar house elf appeared at his leg.

 

“I require Madams Greengrass and Bones’ attendance immediately. I knew this day would come.” He grumbled the last part, waving the elf away. His eyes scanned the room again, taking in faces this time. “Seven Gryffindors? Well this is an inconvenience…”

 

Everyone, including Mal and Hermione moved to the sides of the room, leaving Adrian and Theo still facing each other in a staring match of wills.

 

Hermione pulled Mal over towards Draco and Harry where she tried to fuss over her friend to Harry’s annoyance and Draco’s reluctant tolerance.

 

Knowing Adrian was a prefect and clearly the King of Slytherin, Mal was certain that Theo would continue to abide by Adrian’s decisions even if he disagreed strongly with them.

 

“Professor…” Adrian greeted him respectfully, despite not looking away from Theo.

 

Theo glared angrily at Adrian but he didn’t fight when George tugged him to the side.

 

Once Adrian was sure Theo wasn’t going to attack him or Professor Snape, he turned and bowed slightly.

 

It appeared to Mal anyway, that Adrian could feel Neville’s eyes on him and the older Slytherin smirked slightly.

 

“None of that…” Severus snapped, “Now if one of you would explain to me what happened and why there is an injured young witch clearly too young to be at Hogwarts on your bed Theo, I would greatly appreciate being enlightened.”

 

Adrian answered promptly, “I know that following the death of his mother, at the time Theo dropped out of sight for reasons unknown. He believes that it is his duty to protect them and they clearly respect him but it is more paternal respect then sibling related. From what I understand Theo is now legally Lord Nott making him the Earl Mansfield of Nottingham and Caen Wood. Though I am unsure if he retains the title of Viscount Sandhurst or if it is now granted at least temporarily to his brother whom I believe was registered as Dareios Nott.”

 

Then Adrian frowned, “I am suspicious that due to Theo taking the Headship of the Nott Estate and Gracie’s appearance that the former Lord Nott attacked them both. We weren’t entirely sure what happened ourselves. A Nott elf appeared in _The Three Broomsticks_ and informed Theo that something terrible had happened that had upset the puppy. Apparently, Seamus and Dean were aware of the puppy’s existence and its relationship to the Nott family. Seamus surmised that something had happened to Gracie who I suspect is actually Charis Nott. At which time we hurried to Hogwarts where we found Gracie, soon after Ned and Theo showed up. I informed Theo that despite his legal status he wouldn’t be granted custody of his siblings due to his age and I recommended that you be sent for. Their elf told them that all of their living relations are Death Eaters but they said that their mother was Evelyn Prince before she joined the House of Nott. You are Lord Prince technically aren’t you? I think that makes you their closest relation.”

 

“Your Aunt Charity and her sisters have a nearly equal claim,” Professor Snape said thoughtfully, “Evelyn Prince was my Aunt but she was Charity’s cousin.”

 

Adrian frowned, “She’s a professor and single, I don’t see Aunt Charity wanting custody any more then Aunt Irma. Mother is usually busy with Wizengamot or Board of Governor duties. As for Aunt Connie she claims to have her hands full with _In Stitches_ and her own teenage daughters.”

 

“Then again, I have the stronger claim and someone mentioned in passing over the summer that children related to me might need guardians soon…” Snape mused.

 

Theo flinched.

 

The door opened and Professor Lupin had returned with a wizard in the robes of a healer and an aristocratic witch with expensive looking green robes.

 

“Madam Greengrass and Healer Smythe as requested.” Professor Lupin said as he entered the room and took his place at Professor Snape’s side.

 

“Thank you for coming so quickly.” Professor Snape with a slight bow.

 

Smythe said nothing to either of them as went at once to examine Gracie.

 

Theo let out a small growl as the healer approached her but George seemed to calm him somehow.

 

“He’s a healer, she’s been hurt. He has to make sure she’s all right. It isn’t that he doesn’t trust we’ve fixed her up. He just wants to be sure she’s healing properly.” George said in a soft hiss.

 

George seemed to calm him, Neville was jealous of that to his own surprise.

 

Adrian’s Aunt Aurora Greengrass frowned, “Adrian, Professor Snape. Why was I sent for?”

 

“Theo and his sister were both attacked by their father. Theo’s father violated the strict dictates of power according to the Nott family and thus Theo is Head of the family, he has also come into a magical creature inheritance. I am unsure what it is and I will not ask, despite both he is still not yet fifteen. With an eleven-year-old brother and an injured sister as yet too young to attend Hogwarts, I knew you would disapprove of his retaining custody due to his age.”

 

“Quite right, I believe his mother was Evelyn Prince before her bonding was it not?” Madam Greengrass sniffed.

 

Mal’s ears twitched when the door opened and she noticed Professor Charity slipping inside…

 

“Yes, my aunt and your sister-in-laws Faith Constance, Irma and Charity’s cousin.” Snape added.

 

“Evie’s kids?” Charity asked startling the others.

 

Then Charity hugged Theo and then Ned but burst into tears when she saw Gracie, “You’re all alive. Thank Helga! I thought Oran was a bad person but how could he hurt a little girl?”

 

“Do desist with the blubbering Charity!” Madam Greengrass snapped.

 

“I’m only a Hufflepuff Aurora,” Charity sniffed, “I’m allowed to be weak if I chose.”

 

“There is no way I’ll be granting custody of them to you. You would do nothing but spoil and coddle. Even if their life with Oran was distasteful that is not the proper way to parent. As Head of the Department of Magical Children I’ll be temporarily granting custody to Lord Prince, I see betrothal rings. I expect you to make your relationship permanent rather soon. These children will need a stable home environment, I know of your reputation Severus Snape and I believe that you would give these children the sort of structure that they would need.” Madam Greengrass sniffed.

 

“What about the estate?” Theo grumbled.

 

“Their inheritances? I suspect that young Dareios has a vault, a trust vault; I would expect you and Lord Prince to oversee that jointly. I don’t need to put it in writing do I? As for Miss Nott, you two can decide on her trust vault and any monies that need to be granted to the family she joins when she is of age and bonds. Legal custody will be granted to Lord Prince and to his consort after his bonding, however he can give a legal consent for his fiancé/betrothed to look after Miss Nott while he is in classes if needed. I will be sending the appropriate papers by tomorrow at the latest. As for Master Darieos you two can consult if you wish Lord Prince but true custody is yours. Smythe a copy of your report please. Oh and thanks to our supplier having caught up on his orders, we should be contacting your nearest relations soon Mr. Thomas. ”

                       

Then she disappeared in a flutter of green robes.

 

Neville whispered, “What does she mean Dean?”

 

“I’ll tell you later, promise.” Dean whispered back and Neville nodded.

 

Mal was suspicious that it was regarding using that potion to determine who Dean’s Magical relations were…

 

Professor Snape glanced at Theo as he and Professor Lupin walk towards the edge of the bed. Aunt Charity had moved away from Gracie and was coddling Ned. The young Gryffindor was trying to push her away but she wasn’t having any of it.

 

Adrian smiled and watched as his Head of House and the professor’s mate spoke quietly with Gracie.

 

George gripped Theo’s hand tightly and the Slytherin leaned into him, finally having given up on fighting the inevitable.

 

Healer Smythe tapped Professor Snape on the shoulder and he stood up, squeezing Professor Lupin’s shoulder as he went. The Healer led Professor Snape out of the dormitory, the door falling closed behind them.

 

“So you’re my new daddy?” Gracie asked Professor Lupin.

 

The older wizard smiled proudly, “I sure am, and that man with the dark hair who just left is too.”

 

Neville tilted his head and watched the exchange with a teary smile on his face.

 

“Two daddies? Really?” She gasped and the now calm Heraclio jumped back up onto the bed, curling around her.

 

Mal was only slightly jealous of Gracie’s luck, after all as soon as Seamus’ mother learned about her mistreatment the witch had brought her into her family and she’d gained a weird aunt and an elderly couple who were determined to regain their lost youth by taking her and Mark into their family…

 

Hermione knew something about Professors Snape and Lupin’s relationship, more then she wanted to know but it seemed that they were back together. That must be why Snape was so different this year…

 

Betrothed, that meant they were engaged. Hopefully, that would smooth Snape’s remaining rough edges and given Lupin’s fondness for Harry, surely Snape would come around right?

 

Then Snape returned to the dormitory with Healer Smythe and a witch Mal recognised as Madam Bones…

 

Professor Snape and the healer approached Theo’s bed.

 

Professor Snape gave Gracie a gentle smile; “The healer is going to take you to St. Mungos just for a day or two to make sure that you’re healing properly. Remus is going to stay with you until you can come back. While you’re gone I’m going to have a room set up for you in my apartments and when you are released you’ll move in there. Be sure to tell Lolly if there is anything she needs to get from the Nursery at your old house. Your brothers can visit our apartment whenever they have time after classes as long as they keep their marks up.”

 

“What can I call you?” Gracie asked nervously biting her lip.

 

Professor Lupin chuckled, “I’m partial to dad actually…”

 

Snape swallowed, “Papa will be suitable.”

 

Gracie nodded, “Okay, I’ll go with dad to St. Mungos but I want to come back to Hogwarts quickly.”

 

“The sooner you go the sooner you can come back.” Professor Snape promised.

 

Professor Lupin scooped up Gracie, which sent the puppy into growling again…

 

Gracie scowled, “Heraclio that isn’t nice!”

 

The puppy whimpered at the reprimand.

 

“The puppy may visit but can’t spend the night.” Hyrum frowned, “We’re not a creature boarding facility.”

 

Seamus piped up, “Heraclio can stay with us. After all he is Niall’s pup…”

 

That tidbit of information while known to Adrian and Neville due to it being revealed at **The Three Broomsticks** was clearly news to the professors…

 

Smythe nodded, “With that settled, I’ll take us to St. Mungos by portkey and leave you folk be.”

 

Then Professor Lupin was whisked away with Gracie via portkey…

 

Once Gracie was gone, Professor Snape spoke, “Thomas and Finnigan, I suggest you two depart and take the puppy with you for now. Draco if would be quite helpful if you would head to my office and floo your mother. I will need to speak with her. Potter may join you if he wishes. Longbottom it would be wise of you to join Thomas and Finnigan, Adrian can find you later if he wants. Since it is clear that having George Weasley sent off would be unwise, he may remain if that is what Theo wishes. Is that you Prewett? I am surprised to see you here, no matter Emelia and I have things to discuss with the Nott boys and it would behoove you and your nosy friend to leave.”

 

Professor Charity glared at Snape, “I have a better idea, Mal and Hermione can join me for tea. Since it is clear that neither of us witches are wanted.”

 

Charity draped an arm over both girls’ shoulders and led them out of the dormitory. Her weepy reaction to Charis and Dareios’ being alive as well as Charis’ injuries had evaporated and her usual demeanor had returned.

 

Charity marched them right into the Slytherin Common room and didn’t seem to pay to students there any heed…

 

By the time the group had been broken up at Snape’s instigation and were parting ways from the Slytherin Fourth Year Boys dormitory, Hermione was so upset that Mal couldn’t leave her alone. So she chose to take Professor Charity up on the offer of tea…

 

Mal had her left hand still holding onto Hermione’s right hand and while ignoring the curious and disgusted looks from her Housemates; Mal let Professor Charity lead them out of the common room and up to her office.

 

Once they were inside, Charity snapped her fingers and informed the elf that appeared that tea, biscuits and light sandwiches would be appreciated.

 

The elf nodded and then left with a soft pop.

 

Charity pointed her wand at one of the chairs in front of her desk and it was transfigured into a loveseat, “There now, I think that will suit you both.” She flicked her wand and her desk was cleared.

 

Mal pulled a still shaken Hermione onto the loveseat and wrapped an arm around the girl’s shoulders.

 

Charity transfigured the other chair into a comfortable armchair and conjured a low table very much like a Muggle coffee table.

 

Mal murmured nonsense that was hopefully soothing in Hermione’s ear and let Hermione calm herself.

 

It must have distressed Hermione to see that little girl so badly hurt that her puppy seemed to consider ripping all their throats out. Then again Theo was usually so aloof and unsocial that it was surprising to see him so volatile that he would openly defy Adrian Pucey of all people and that he would shove Potter so hard that he might have hurt him.

 

Professor Charity’s elf returned with a tray containing the requested refreshments and set them down on the table between them.

 

“Thank you Winny. That will be all.” The professor said coolly.

 

The elf bowed and then vanished.

 

Charity said gently, “Help yourselves, I know that our lunch was postponed due to Gracie being attacked. I can only assume that yours was as well. I do apologise for my behaviour prior, I thought that Gracie was gone. Ned didn’t recognise me and well he isn’t one of my students. After their mother’s death, we weren’t welcome to Mansfield and well we drifted apart from them. If we’d known that they were being mistreated then I know father would have tried to sue for custody…”

 

“So you’re cousins then?” Mal asked trying to make conversation.

 

“Evie’s father was my uncle Marcellus, her older sister Eileen was Severus’ mother. Which makes Severus and Theo closer kin then Theo and I…”

 

“While Theo was more often at Malfoy Manor when he was young, he did sometimes visit with Adrian. There was a time when Gary and Ned would play together but they were so young despite both being in Gryffindor I doubt they remember. Despite Theo’s obvious displeasure in the situation I am certain that Ned and Gracie could be in no better hands then Severus and Remus. They could not have more protective parents…”

 

“Gracie has to be close in age to Dean’s sister Dana and Crabbe’s sister Isolde, perhaps they could meet and have tea or something?” Mal offered tentatively.

 

Charity beamed at her, “That’s a lovely idea! I’ll be sure to pass that on to Severus later. Eat up you two. Mal you are entirely too skinny…”

 

Mal was mum on the why of her ‘skinniness’ it just wasn’t something she was comfortable discussing…

 

Later after their belated lunch, Hermione clutched at her and Mal decided not to push her so she led her back to Slytherin. Mal ignored the teasing as she led a still distraught Hermione to her own dormitory and they lay together behind Mal’s closed curtains.

 

Hermione was undoubtedly soft hearted but that was part of her charm…

 

Mal wouldn’t change that about her even if she had difficulty feeling that sort of thing…

 

 

 

 

 


	10. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

 

It had been embarrassing but Hermione had spent the night in Slytherin, she had been so upset by seeing Gracie like that that she hadn’t wanted to be alone. Mal had loaned her a nightgown but it had been a bit long for her given that Mal was taller despite their difference in age. But Hermione’s chest was larger so it sort of evened out after a sizing charm…

 

She and Mal had a long talk about things.

 

Of course, she didn’t want to be around people at dinner so she’d told Mal where the kitchens were so they could have some food.

 

Hermione had shared her suspicions about Harry’s home life due to his thinness when he showed up at The Burrow in August as well as the conversation the twins had about bars on Harry’s bedroom window. Harry’s pained reaction to his floo landing this past summer and his fear of Theo’s anger she had to speak of.

 

Mal had reciprocated by talking about her Muggle mother’s hatred of magic and mistreatment of her as well as their temporary placement in the custody of Seamus’ grandparents.

 

Hermione felt a little steadier emotionally when she and Mal entered the Great Hall Sunday morning.

 

Mal escorted her to Gryffindor before heading across the Great Hall to sit at her own table.

 

They sat so they could see one another…

 

Everything seemed normal until Theo walked up to Gryffindor.

 

Theo looked a bit nervous but there was a bit of smugness mixed in when he bowed, “George, it would give me no greater pleasure than to have the honour of your company. Would you consent to be my date to the Yule ball?”

 

George blushed, stammering, “Would I? Whom else would I go with?”

 

Theo smirked, “No one I hope.”

 

“Whore!” Ron coughed.

 

Hermione was simmering, that foul-mouthed twerp! How dare he! George was such a good person even if he was a prankster…

 

“Shut up. You can’t talk to a prefect like that.” Fred growled.

 

“You used to call Percy names!” Ron retorted.

 

“I said he had a big head. It was a joke, a joke that was in poor taste but still only a joke. As if I could get away with worse, Oliver would have beat me with my own bat if I tried.” Fred scowled. “We teased him if I wanted to do more I would have. We didn’t, but he did need to lighten up and we tried to leaven him up some. There is a huge difference from teasing a brother about getting a big head to calling him a whore.”

 

“What would Oliver have to do with Percy?” Ron sneered.

 

The Gryffindor team minus Harry but plus Theo sniggered.

 

“What’s so funny?” Ron fumed.

 

“Oh, nothing…” Angelina burst into fresh giggles.

 

 “Are you a poofter too?” Ron sneered.

 

Since Hermione had realised she liked girls, poofter made her see red.

 

Angelina stiffened, “I am not. Are you blind or just stupid? I thought everyone in Gryffindor knew the reason I kept brushing Lee off was that I was with Fred.”

 

Fred flinched.

 

“That’s why you gave him that filthy mutt?” Ron glared at her.

 

“Roxi is a pureblood basset hound.” Angelina sniffed, “Dad gave her to me and I gave her to Fred as a gift.”

 

“One more mouth to feed,” Ron sneered, “Did you give her away because you knew we couldn’t afford to keep her? How cruel of you.”

 

That was the last straw for Hermione.

 

“Cruel is throttling Pigwidgeon, refusing to name him personally and then calling him ‘Pig’.  I think it’s a pity you ever had a pet. You used to call Scabbers all sorts of names and treat him poorly until you thought Crookshanks was trying to kill him!” Hermione retorted with icy venom.

 

“Crookshanks was out to get Scabbers!” Ron snapped.

 

“Because he was an animagus!” Hermione snapped, “A lying, backstabbing treacherous varmint and you two deserved one another.”

 

Ron raised his fist as if to hit her and inwardly Hermione cringed because she didn’t approve of violence.

 

“Don’t touch her.” Came a familiar stern but icy voice as Ron’s fist was grabbed so that it couldn’t move.

 

It was Mal…

 

Hermione’s heartbeat was very fast, she found herself blushing at Mal’s defence of her.

 

“Who are you?” Ron glowered staring at Mal with hatred.

 

“My name? It matters very little to you, doesn’t it? How many people have to tell you to shut your mouth?” Mal barked.

 

“I’ve got a right to my opinion!” Ron growled.

 

“We just feel incredibly sad that your ignorance seems to be completely impenetrable.” Mal deadpanned.

 

Hermione, Theo, George, Fred, Dean, Angelina, Mal, Colin, Ned, and even Pucey’s brother Gaheris broke out in scales of laughter.

 

Many of the Ravenclaws at the neighbouring table started to chortle as well.

 

Ron blinked owlishly at them, “It’s not funny.”

 

Hermione and Mal exchanged glances and laughed uproariously again.

 

It was a move that was duplicated up and down Hermione’s friends and acquaintances in Gryffindor.

 

“Hey, now what’s up with all the noise?” Adrian frowned when he arrived at the Gryffindor table.

 

But George was laughing his head off which set Theo off again in sniggers, he looked more personable than he had yesterday. If he weren’t taller and broader, he wouldn’t seem very different.

 

Mal gave Adrian a look of purely faked innocence. “The treacherous Weasel said that he had the right to an opinion while threatening Hermione. All I said was: We just feel incredibly sad that your ignorance seems to be completely impenetrable.”

 

Adrian just gaped at her and then he started to laugh.

 

By then Harry, Seamus and Neville finally seemed to understand.

 

Then the unthinkable happened…

 

Severus Snape started to chuckle, which grew into a full-throated laugh that spread to Professors Charity and Flitwick, then to Sprout. Even McGonagall and the librarian Madam Prince were barely restraining smiles.

 

Albus Dumbledore was not…

 

“As much as it pains me to do such a thing to members of my old House, I shall have to take points for disturbing others.” The Headmaster scowled.

 

Hermione was appalled they hadn’t done anything wrong.

 

“Headmaster, with all due respect laughter should not count as a disturbance.” McGonagall scowled as she echoed Hermione’s thought on the matter.

 

“When it is made at the expense of another it should,” Dumbledore grumbled.

 

“Only when it’s at the expense of a Gryffindor,” Charity, who was Hermione favourite professor spat. “Helga forbid it is at the expense of a _Slytherin_ , then again aren’t they worth less than even a pathetic duffer?”

 

“Leave it alone Charity.” Snape sniffed.

 

“He’s being deliberately unfair! Ronald Weasley singles out Hermione Granger making her cry last year multiple times, even abusing her familiar and there is to be no punishment but if someone makes an astute observation about the thickness of that imbecile’s intellect that is worded in such a way that it is remotely humorous that’s wrong? I patently disagree.” Charity fumed.

 

“Fair? Where in life does it say it has to be fair?” Dumbledore said with a feigned smile.

 

“I can’t support your punishing them,” Charity sniffed disdainfully.

 

“You are a mere junior professor, I am the Headmaster and I am able to punish them as I see fit,” Dumbledore said with a lofty air.

 

“That is against the rule of the Founders.” A silvery female ghost sniffed as she floated towards the Head Table.

 

That surprised Hermione and she exchanged a glance of wonder with Mal.

 

“Really?” Dumbledore said dryly.

 

“Yes! The headmaster only deals with particularly troublesome offenders. For instance, if you wished to punish Ronald for his offences which are far more grievous than mere laughter, that would be within your power. If you truly believe that the laughter is bothersome then you can ask that they desist but punishment would be overreaching.” The ghost replied sternly.

 

“And who might you be?” Dumbledore glowered.

 

“In life, I was Helena Ravenclaw if you do not believe me you can ask the Bloody Baron I’m sure he would vouch for my identity since he was the one to end my life.” the ghost said stiffly. “I do not often speak and never to those out of my House but my mother would be quite appalled.”

 

“Your mother?” Flitwick asked curiosity in his voice.

 

“Headmistress and former Veela Queen Rowena Ravenclaw.” The ghost said coldly.

 

Hermione gasped.

 

“She was not,” Dumbledore protested.

 

“Do not continue spouting the lie that Godric was Headmaster. He most certainly was unsuited to such duties, Uncle Salazar would have been more suited but it was Mother Aurelia that took over when Mother Rowena fell ill. It must have been terrible for both of them…” the ghost’s voice faded.

 

“I am Headmaster of this school,” Dumbledore sniffed, “I believe I know more than you.”

 

Hermione was stunned at his thickheadedness, how could he possibly know more than Rowena Ravenclaw’s daughter about who were the first chief administrator of Hogwarts.

 

Wait! Mother Rowena and Mother Aurelia? Was Rowena bent too?

 

“I was there Headmaster and the castle is releasing you, can you not feel it? It is contemplating new leadership yet it is as of yet uncertain whom it wishes to succeed you.” Helena smirked. “It communes with me because my mother’s magic and blood flow through it.”

 

“I think that the situation could be best resolved Albus by telling them to return to their own tables or to dismiss the students.” Flitwick piped up.

 

“I am not accustomed to this sort of treatment.” Dumbledore scowled.

 

“You are exceeding yourself and you tend to ignore the school in favour of the greater Wizarding world. You only pay attention when you have to like when the Chamber was open.” Helena sniffed. “You’re no better then Headmaster Black, while he hated students he was at least concerned with seeing that they had a prestigious education and acquiring exceptional instructors as well as working with the Board of Governors. You, sir, are an obstructionist, thus are not a worthy guardian and nurturer of young minds.”

 

Hermione watched the professors’ reaction to that denouncement; the four Heads seemed to react to that differently: Flitwick was bemused, Snape in agreement, McGonagall indignant and Sprout, well she looked like she _wanted_ to agree. The other professors such as Sinistra, Vector and Burbage looked like they were bordering on agreement while Hagrid looked indignant.

 

Theo held a hand out, “George would you like to spend the day in my company? I know that our time together was cut short yesterday and I was hoping that you’d consent to perhaps working on our homework at the same time.”

 

“What is it with this influx of Gryffindors whoring themselves to Slytherins?” Ron sneered.

 

Hermione flinched.

 

Whoring indeed! Just because one happened to have romantic or even sexual feelings for a Slytherin did not make them whores…

 

“I’d be glad to do my homework with you. Perhaps, I’ll even let you peruse my Potions essay. I would be interested in your opinion on the use of temporary love potions versus the regulated Amortentia.” George said as if he never heard Ron, “I would also be flattered to attend the Yule Ball with you.”

 

Fred not to be outdone bowed, “Angie would you accompany me?”

 

Lee flinched before directing his attention to her best friend. “Alicia? Would you be my date?”

 

The two elder Gryffindor Chasers exchanged glances before agreeing at once.

 

Just as Theo and George were exiting the Great Hall, Hermione found her voice.

 

“Mal?”

 

Mal turned towards her and gave Hermione her full attention, “Yes Hermione?”

 

“Would you like to go to the Yule Ball with me? Just as friends…” the last part was almost a whisper.

 

Ron sputtered, “You…you…traitor.”

 

Hermione’s anger manifested magically and a biscuit on the table became a spider that scurried right for Ron.

 

Ron shrieked. “SPIDER!”

 

Mal snickered at his terror even as she took, Hermione’s hand in hers, lifting it to her lips. “I would be honoured. Were I in your year I would have asked you.”

 

“Be quiet Ronald Weasley.” Charity snapped from the Head Table as she vanished the spider. She beamed at Hermione and Mal with pride.

 

“Our day was rather disrupted yesterday to certain events, perhaps we could study together?” Mal offered.

 

Hermione flushed a brighter shade of pink, “I’d like that…”

 

Mal steadied Hermione as she rose and stepped over the bench she’d been sitting on.

 

Hermione was saddened when Mal let go of her hand.

 

It must have shown because Mal immediately snatched it up again. “Come on, off to the library.”

 

Hermione should have felt bad about losing her temper and siccing a transfigured spider at Ron but after his verbal insults to her friends, his probable responsibility for Harry and Dean’s injuries in September and his attempt to hurt her this morning, she found she didn’t really feel any guilt.

 

Mal whispered in her ear, “You should have gotten points for that spider. That was divine. Very Slytherin of you Hermione.”

 

Hermione blushed, “The Hat did consider Slytherin because of my ambition, but I really thought it was going to put me in Ravenclaw because of my intelligence.”

 

“A shame, we might have become friends sooner if you had.” Mal murmured.

 

Once they were in the library they summoned their school bags and claimed a prime table to begin finishing their homework.

 

XooooooX

 

Yes, Hermione had slept fitfully last night after seeing Gracie Nott bandaged up like that.

 

She’d long harboured doubts about Harry’s home life.

 

Hermione had overheard the twins talking to Mrs Weasley the summer before Second Year about bars on Harry’s window and he was always so thin when he arrived at The Burrow every summer. Plus he broke bones easily and she worried about his wrist after Theo shoved him.

 

Not that she really believed he meant for Harry to get hurt, George wouldn’t stand for it.

 

She had brought her concerns to both Nurse Pomfrey and Dumbledore who had told her that Harry was just small for his age but he was healthy. Dumbledore also told her that he had a trusted friend who lived near Harry and if anything was wrong that she knew and would have informed him.

 

Hermione had written down all of her suspicions in a small Muggle notebook including dates and dictation of instances when an authority figure was informed of the possibility of Harry being mistreated. Sometimes having an eidetic memory was a blessing…

 

She swallowed and glanced over at Mal, “Could you read something for me and give me your opinion?”

 

Mal frowned, “Does it have anything to do with Potter?”

 

Hermione nodded as she held out the notebook.

 

Mal took it and began to read silently, her lips pursing tighter together the longer she read.

 

When she finished, Mal closed the book and cast privacy charms around their table.

 

“Harry’s being abused. He’s been starved, likely beaten if his reaction to violence or anger is an indication. I can tell he never is allowed a thing of his own and is forced to accept hand-me-downs.”

 

Hermione nodded, “I was afraid of that…I don’t know what to do. I’ve tried talking to Harry but he won’t talk…”

 

Mal snorted, “Why would he? He’s been sent back to those monsters already how many times? When George tried to tell an adult about bars on his window or being locked up he was punished. If this so-called friend of Dumbledore’s hasn’t seen anything she must be blind. I know the Wizarding World doesn’t hold to abuse because Seamus’ mum and grandfather took Dean and I in along with our siblings Dana and Mark because our mothers are mad abusive shits.”

 

Hermione grasped Mal’s hand, “Your mother treats you badly?”

 

Mal shrugged but didn’t pull her hand back, “I’m that devil child, I do…well did all of the housework, the yard work, shopping and even cooking. I did odd jobs around the neighbourhood to pay for not only my books but for used clothing. I never had anything new until Hogwarts…”

 

Hermione clutched Mal’s hand to her heart and burst into tears.

 

Mal was a little unnerved by Hermione’s reaction but her crush’s reaction to cry of her mistreatment by the woman who bore her, warmed Mal’s heart. She knew that Hermione wasn’t just crying for her…

 

It was also for Harry…

 

Hermione was softhearted and that her friend would cry for her meant a lot…

 

Mal pulled on Hermione’s hands bring them to her lips and kissed them before pulling the older witch into her arms. “We’ll pass a copy of this to Charity, she’ll know what to do with it…”

 

Hermione nodded but let Mal rock her until she recovered her composure.

 

Mal had not confessed the truth of her abuse openly since she was tricked and branded a liar at her previous school.

 

It had been Mark who brought it an adult’s attention and he’d gotten her help this past summer after her mother really hurt her.

 

Mal didn’t know Potter very well but she wouldn’t wish a childhood like her own on anyone. Dean had love withheld by his mother and then he was beaten for loving Seamus, Dean had shut down around anyone but Seamus and Dana after that. Mal could understand that reaction only Dean had never to her knowledge been mistreated before that. Most of what she knew she had overheard her brother Mark talking with Dana about…

 

Mal was going to use Harry as a test; if Charity didn’t step up for Harry then the witch wasn’t worth trusting…

 

 


	11. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

 

Since Mal missed her chance to shop on Hogsmeade Weekend and classes weren’t out for the term, she couldn’t go shopping.

 

So she’d been forced to write Bethne and ask if she or even Niamh could find her something appropriate for the Yule Ball since an older student had asked her.

 

To say Mal was surprised to have not one but two deliveries for her Yule Ball attire soon after she’d mentioned to Bethne and Niamh as well as Charity that she had a date but no idea what to wear was slightly irritating…

 

Bethne and Niamh sent her a frilly green dress but Charity had ordered a green shirt-dress, black heeled boots, a black long velvet tunic that had a grey vine pattern on it as well as silver buttons and it came with a pair of silk trousers that were like a split skirt.

 

After trying it on with the help of her loaned elf Marnie, Mal decided that Charity’s outfit suited her much better…

 

She wondered what sort of outfit or outfits that Hermione had to choose from…

 

XooooooX

 

Hermione had returned from the World Cup to find that Mrs Weasley had picked out a navy dress with silver shooting stars for her dress robes spending much of her money for attending Hogwarts on it.

 

Thank Merlin that her father made sure to exchange money for her every month and owled it from Diagon Alley otherwise she would be too broke to buy replacement quills, ink and parchment.

 

Hermione already had picked out a dress with her mother, her mother maybe a dentist and a bit of a workaholic but she still managed to find time for her when she was home from Hogwarts.

 

They had gone dress shopping at Westlake and made a day of it, even having their hair and makeup done as well as facials, manicures and pedicures.

 

Hermione had picked out a blue dress with a silk bodice and her dress was comprised of tulle ruffles mostly. She’d loved the dress and had kept it secreted in her wardrobe but she had considered the star dress because it looked a bit like one owned by Princess Diana…

 

Yet the gift that had arrived yesterday but like Harry’s broom, she’d been warned not to open at the table but to place the packing portkey in her school bag for later…

 

The dress was beyond lovely and it made her want to cry…

 

It was the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen and she was almost convinced she was too plain to wear it.

 

It was definitely her house colours though…

 

The dress was princess cut with a voluminous skirt that was charmed to glow with red and gold flames, the effect caused gold highlights to shine out of her usually mousy brown.

 

Her eyes were also very honey coloured rather than their more demure brown...

 

Hermione put it up in her wardrobe in the dormitory that was at the foot of her bed.

 

She couldn’t wait to show it to Mal...

 

XooooooX

 

Mal had enough of an allowance from her ‘adopted’ family the O’Shaneseys to think about Solstice gifts for Mark and Hermione...

 

She had taken to meeting Hermione outside her classes to carry her bag to classes thanks to her timeturner.

 

Hermione was shy and protested every time that her bag was just too heavy...

 

That was why Mal’s gift was a new book bag that would hold her books without straining the seams or hurt her back due to the weight.

 

Mal had noticed the older wizards carrying their girl’s bag and presumed it was the right and proper thing.

 

They held hands more often even if it made Hermione extremely nervous and Mal watched Ron like a snake ready to strike. That worthless weasel wasn’t hurting her girl...

 

Mal adored Hermione’s nervous glances and shy looks, being all the more pleased that her crush had feelings for her that deepened on both sides day by day...

 

 


	12. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione and Mal POV of the First Task of the Triwizard Tournament.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before you get all upset we made a few adjustments to the canon First Task. First off we changed the dragons to those more likely to be at Charlie's preserve and we canceled classes on the day of the Tournament because it was unlikely that anyone would pay attenion anyway. Besides, in the Muggle world we have more holidays or days without classes than they do in Hogwarts. It also made more sense to move the tournament one day so they will all take place on a Friday because it makes more sense then a Thursday.

Chapter 11

 

 

Hermione had difficulty sleeping the night before the First Task...

 

She still had no idea what he would be facing on that historically it was a Magical Creature that tested their daring.

 

The closer the Task came the more she fretted, she liked knowing everything.

 

So while she despised actually gossiping, Hermione did keep an ear out to what Pavarti told Lavender.

 

She couldn’t learn anything about the Task...

 

Harry was like her brother and let him face the unknown alone was difficult for her.

 

Hermione had only let him enter that last chamber alone back in First Year because someone had to take Ron to get him checked over and get help.

 

In their Second Year, she figured out the Monster was the Basilisk but was petrified before she could actually tell Harry.

 

Then Third Year it was her not Ron, who helped Buckbeak and Sirius escape...

 

Hermione couldn’t let Harry down but without information, she didn’t know what help to give him...

 

Mal had dragged her down into the Dungeons again last night, loaning her a nightgown again as well as casting a sleeping spell on her.

 

She and Mal were just heading downstairs into the common room when Draco and Blaise ran down the opposite stairs.

 

Draco glanced around throwing up a privacy ward, “Hermione, you’ve to help me. Harry’s got to face a dragon! He’s fourteen! Are they insane?”

 

Hermione stumbled, dragons...

 

Charlie...

 

Why in Merlin’s name didn’t she figure that out? After all, only Bill mentioned possibly attending, while Percy bragged about knowing because he worked for Crouch.

 

She immediately began cursing in Latin as well as insulting herself as she smacked her forehead with her left palm. Hermione was left-handed after all...

 

Mal pinched the back of her hand, “You were distracted by a lot of things. It’s not your fault. The first time you saw Charlie here, he miraculously appeared after Blaise was hurt in Defence right? They found out they were mates, and then came that horrible Hogsmeade trip, that’s only bright side was you showed me around. Now come on Hermione, you’ve been inhaling the library just like me since you arrived. You have to have read about dragons...”

 

Hermione blushed, “You were right Draco, we did have a dragon First Year.”

 

Draco crowed in Blaise’s ear, “See I told you!”

 

“Hagrid was keeping one here but we convinced him that it needed to be with its own kind so we wrote Charlie who agreed to have it donated to his preserve. After Ron and Harry got rid of the dragon and Hagrid returned the books, I read all of them...” Hermione admitted shyly.

 

Draco blinked, “You read every book in the library on dragons? Even I haven’t and my name means dragon...”

 

Hermione coughed, “I only have to read something once to remember it, I have one of those memories that means I can’t forget anything. I’m not even sure that a memory charm would work for me, I wouldn’t be removing a memory for a pensive but copying.”  


Mal seemed smug rather than disgusted by her admitting to being weird.

 

Draco and Blaise gasped.

 

“That’s awesome! No wonder you know all the answers, your mind is a walking library...” Draco exclaimed.

 

Blaise whistled, “Come on, we better find Harry to make sure he got Draco’s message last night about the nature of the First Task. Then Draco here plans to make sure that Adrian knows if Brecc doesn’t beat him to it.”

 

Draco led them out of the Slytherin common room, it was very early but not early enough to get them in trouble for walking the halls.

 

Hermione let them into Gryffindor Tower despite the Fat Lady’s complaints and up to the dormitory that Harry shared with Ron the traitor, Neville, Dean and Seamus.

 

Mal and Hermione stayed in the corridor letting the boys see if Harry was decent.

 

She peeked through the cracked open door to see Blaise and Draco pull open Harry’s curtain and Draco jumped on the bed.

 

Harry yelped, “Wha...Draco? What are you doing in the Tower?”

 

“Hermione let us in, say she read all the books you could need to help you with the task.” Draco said smugly, “And admitted that you did have a dragon!”

 

Harry snickered, “Of course I do, he’s in my bed.”

 

Blaise giggled.

 

“Stinking Slytherins in the dormitory? Really Harry? Like it’s bad enough I’ve caught you sick fucks in each other’s bed, now you’ve got a slimy Slytherin in your bed? You make me sick; I can’t believe that I was ever friends with you.” Ron said storming out of his bed.

 

Hermione was shoved behind Mal when Ron stomped his way towards the door.

 

“So are you two spying on Potter and Malfoy hoping to see them snog or something? Do you get off on it? Or are you hoping that we don’t know that you’re whoring yourself to this snake?” Ron spat in their face.

 

Mal calmly wiped his spittle from her cheek, “No, we were waiting to find out if the boys were dressed enough for us to come in. Hermione wanted to talk to Harry; so we figured it was kinder to send Draco and Blaise in first to check.”

 

“You lot don’t belong in Gryffindor, Granger’s a traitor if she thinks otherwise. I don’t know what worse, that our real champion is a Slytherin or that Potter thinks that he can cheat his way into that bloody tournament after lying about wanting to enter. He knew I wanted to enter, same as my apparent half-brothers, those greedy twins who always have money but can’t be bothered to share it.”

 

“If it isn’t ickly Ronnikins, I can’t believe you’re still picking on Hermione. Why don’t you grow up, grow a brain and learn that you can’t dictate to other people.” One of the twins drawled.

 

Ron snorted, “’snot hard to guess which one you are. George is always whoring himself to that freaky Nott. Why do you care how I talk to Hermione? You plan on breaking her in?”

 

Fred gagged, “No thank you, I’d no sooner be sexually attracted to Hermione than Harry would. I’d love it if she were my sister instead of Ginny but,” then he shrugged.

 

“You think some Muggleborn Know-it-all is good enough to be part of our family? Your grandmother would have a fit.” Ron sputtered.

 

“Lady Cedrella may have been a Black but I’m sure that given the strength of Hermione’s magic and intellect like Harry’s own mother, she’d be forgiven for being born to Muggles.” Fred shrugged.

 

Ron gagged, “You’re crazy, all of you.”

 

Then he turned tail and ran.

 

Blaise called out, “Well are you coming or aren’t you?”

 

Fred snickered, “You might want to choose your words more carefully Blaise. Anyway, I’ll let you help Harry;” his expression turned pensive, “Merlin knows he’ll need all the help he can get.”

 

Hermione let herself into Harry’s dormitory, she blushed when she saw Seamus and Dean peeking out from Dean’s bed.

 

Seamus’ bed seemed full of their huge grey wolfhounds, they were so cute. How could Ron detest them anyway?

 

Neville was yawning, “I didn’t sleep well, so I’m going to try to sleep a bit longer. Wake me up for breakfast Harry?”

 

Harry nodded, “Sure Neville. Get some sleep.”

 

Neville tugged his curtain closed again.

 

They felt a tingle of magic that was likely a silencing charm; hopefully, Harry opening the curtain would cancel it.

 

“You don’t care about this do you, Hermione?” Dean drawled.

 

Hermione shook her head, “No?” her voice was a bit higher than normal; “It would be rather hypocritical wouldn’t it?”

 

Seamus giggled, “Have fun then. We’ll try to sleep a bit longer. I’ll have Liam wake me for breakfast. With no classes, we can have a bit of a lie-in today.”

 

With that said, Dean used his longer arm to close their curtain.

 

Hermione surprised them all by using scrap parchment to transfigure chairs for herself, Mal and Blaise while Draco and Harry stayed perched on Harry’s bed.

 

Harry frowned, “So it’s true then? About the dragons?”

 

Blaise nodded, “Saw them myself. Charlie received permission to show me around, he was telling me about the different dragons, what type they were which I could already tell by looking. Their names, how many eggs they had, what number clutch this was for them and how old they were.”

 

Hermione pulled out a bit of parchment and a self-inking quill, “So?”

 

Blaise rolled his eyes, “There is Mariska the Hungarian Horntail, Ileana the Romanian Longhorn, Olena the Ukrainian Ironbelly and Carmesina the Catalonian Fireball. They try to name them in the language from where they originated. The most troublesome are Mariska and Olena according to Charlie. He said that Viktor knows the most about dragons since his Uncle runs the preserve and it would be best if he had either Mariska or Olena. Carmesina seemed the least dangerous but then again they are dragons, but I really hope that Harry ends up with Carmesina...”

 

Hermione proceeded to tell them what the eggs of each type looked like; nesting dragons had to mean that they had to accomplish some egg-related challenge which was even more dangerous given how protective dragon dams were of their eggs...

 

Then she mused out loud how to deal with a dragon, “There is the stunner but that takes how many keepers Blaise?”

 

“Depends on the dragon, Mariska takes twelve I think.” Blaise shrugged.

 

“So the Stunning spell isn’t an option. You can blind a dragon with the Conjunctivitis Curse but that would likely drive them mad. They would trample everything in their path including their eggs which would likely lose points as well as breathe fire at random. Like with ‘Fluffy’ music soothes the savage beast but I don’t think we could find the proper spell to enchant the dragon in time and I can’t think of one.”

 

“Why can’t he just fly?” Draco interrupted.

 

Hermione gaped at him, “Are you insane? Besides the rules state, and I read them hoping to get Harry out of this mess, that he can only enter this task armed with his wand!”

 

“I know I’m dreadful at charms but why can’t he just summon his Firebolt?” Blaise interjected.

 

Hermione blinked, before chewing on her lip, “You know that might work.”

 

Harry scowled, “You know I can’t summon Hermione, my attempts only make it twitch.”

 

Draco said smugly, “Then you’re in luck, you’ve got Hermione and my gracious self, the top students in our year to tutor you. We’ve got until after lunch after all. Let’s get to it.”

 

Mal snorted, “Aren’t you forgetting someone? I am second in my year...”

 

Blaise blinked, “Who’s first?”

 

“Lovegood, she looks a lot like Draco and Ayla.” Mal shrugged. “I wouldn’t mind learning to summon. It might be useful...”

 

So they proceeded to spend their time before breakfast drilling Harry on the summoning charm. Just as Seamus, Dean and Neville were bullied awake by their elves, Harry finally managed to summon his charms textbook from Hermione. It came so quickly that he was almost knocked backwards onto his bed.

 

Draco grinned, “Now we’ll go eat. After breakfast, we’ll practice in an empty classroom on distance summoning.”

 

Hermione and Mal slipped out to let Harry get dressed so Hermione led Mal down to the common room.

 

She could have changed clothes but she felt special in Mal’s clothes which were very nice and made her feel almost pretty. Not that her mother didn’t buy her nice things but Muggle fashion and Wizarding fashion was different...

 

Was it something like the American tradition of a girlfriend wearing her boyfriend’s letterman jacket or his class ring on a chain?

 

Hermione wasn’t sure but she liked it...

 

XoooooX

 

Lunch had come and gone...

 

Professor Snape, Madame Maxime and Highmaster Karkaroff had culled the Champions from the herd so all Hermione could do was pray...

 

Draco invited her, Neville, Seamus, Dean, Adrian’s brother Gary, Viktor’s brother Mike, George, Fred and Colin to join his friends, Theo and Mal in the stands.

 

They made their way towards a corner of the Black Lake that was shaded by trees, that hid a clearing.

 

They found Draco’s mother Lyra Malfoy, whom Hermione recognised from the World Cup but she was certain that Mr Malfoy called her Rayne...

 

Adrian’s mother was there, as were both Brecc and Viktor’s fathers...

 

Professor Charity was sitting with Adrian’s mother as well as the school Librarian who looked less severe and more worried than usual.

 

Professor Lupin was there with Gracie and Ned Nott...

 

Along with an older wizard who resembled Remus strongly...

 

Seamus skipped up to an auburn-haired witch and an older couple dragging Dean.

 

Mal seemed content to hang back until she was imperiously summoned by the older witch who seemed to be Seamus’ grandmother.

 

Hermione found herself dragged forward and introduced as Mal’s friend who had the top marks among the Fourth Years.

 

It filled her with joy down to her toes when she was greeted warmly by Seamus’ mum and grandfather.

 

“Granger...are you perhaps related to the Dagworth-Grangers?”

 

Hermione shrugged, “I’m not sure Miss, I haven’t brewed the Parentus Divinus potion. The ingredients are harder to acquire than those for the Polyjuice...”

 

They barely had time for proper introductions before there was a whistle and out of breath, that loathsome Ludo Bagman welcomed them to the First Task of the Triwizard Tournament.

 

Hermione collapsed on the bench seat and began trembling slightly.           

 

“Working with the Harvey Ridgebit Dragon Sanctuary we’ve brought dragons for this task.”

 

Hermione trembled.

 

“Now Mr Pucey if you would.”

 

Adrian entered the enclosure and a sort of curtain came down.

 

Hermione swallowed, Merlin...

 

A dragon that colour and that large could only be an Ironbelly...

 

That was Mariska...

 

Not far away she could hear Neville’s worried hiss and Blaise’s groan of dismay.

 

Why in the world would they bring a dragon big enough and likely strong enough to carry off the Durmstrang ship?

 

It wouldn’t be the first time an Ironbelly carried off a ship...

 

While she wasn’t as close to Adrian as Neville or Draco were, that didn’t mean she couldn’t worry.

 

Hogwarts had the two younger champions after all; Adrian who was a Sixth Year and Harry who was only in Fourth Year.

 

Krum and Delacour were in their final year if anyone was they were the most likely skilled enough to take on a dragon if anyone was.

 

Hermione wrung her hands, she was wearing a green ribbon in her hair securing her braid in support of Adrian but she had on her Gryffindor hat and scarf to support Harry.

 

Beside her, Mal was grumbling under her breath in Latin about the fates who gave Adrian one of the more dangerous dragons while making choking gestures.

 

Not that Mal was violent but she had a wild protective streak...

 

Hermione like the others watched with baited breath as Adrian transfigured a boulder into a copy of Seamus’ Niall only much braver. Perhaps, it was more like Gracie’s Heraclio in that case...

 

Hermione knew that a dragon’s senses were at least ten times that of a human and they were notoriously short-tempered.

 

The transfigured dog tried to play with the dragon and only succeeded in distracting it for a few minutes while Adrian who had transformed into a wolf- was he an Animagus? Hermione was sure he wasn’t on the list of registered Animagi from this century, unlike Professor McGonagall...

 

Hermione watched helplessly as the dragon turned its attention back to Adrian...

 

Or tried to find him anyway...

 

Then suddenly Adrian leapt into the nest snatched a golden egg in his jaws and bounded off, weaving in an effort to avoid the retaliatory jets of flame sent his way.

 

Hermione let out a strangled cry when she realised that Adrian wasn’t going to get away unscathed.

 

She could see that one of his shoulders was within the circumference of the super-heated air; an Ironbelly had one of the hottest flames on record.

 

Hermione’s cry of dismay was echoed by Adrian’s mother, Aunts, brother Gary, Draco, Blaise and Neville.

 

Mal cursed, “Ah shite. Needed to jump a foot more right...”

 

Hermione was surprised that Mal had figured that out so quickly, then again she was brilliant. She adored Harry but he wasn’t academically her peer and Draco was too narcissistic to really be able to discuss things without having his ego get involved because she trounced him except of course in potions and well defence because Harry always came out with high marks there...

 

She was only top for marks because her average mark was higher than any of them and she took more classes...?

 

Neville was toying with the fringes of his borrowed scarf, his lips moving soundlessly almost like a Muggle saying the rosary.

 

Adrian was being tended by Healer Smythe under Snape’s watchful eye while the judges conferred...

 

Then they watched the judges ‘grade’ Adrian.

 

When Madame Maxime awarded Adrian an eight, Hermione wondered if it was because of Adrian’s shoulder injury or because she was biased...

 

Crouch’s nine made some sense because he was a former Gryffindor, Adrian did well, was timely in his success and Crouch didn’t seem the type to give full marks for anything.

 

Highmaster Karkaroff’s six had Hermione and Mal so angry that they started cursing the man out in Latin loudly until they were both smacked on the hand with what felt like an air ruler.

 

Seamus’ grandmother was scowling as she tapped her wand on her left palm.

 

Hermione simmered while Mal defiantly muttered, “Bias git!”

 

The younger witch ignored the high-pitch cracking of the air hitting her hand.

 

While Adrian was receiving his marks, Charlie and his fellow dragon keepers had exchanged the dragons.

 

Hermione was praying, “Please don’t be the Horntail for Harry...”

 

Mal’s hand rubbed her back, lingering every so often so her hand paused over the strap or the clasp of Hermione’s bra. Her eyes lingering every so often on the dragons.

 

It sent shivers down Hermione’s spine and distracted her enough to almost Miss Fleur Delacour entering when summoned by Bagman.

 

Mal’s hand moved to cup Hermione’s hip, pulling her to press against her side just as the curtain fell revealing a Romanian Longhorn.                           

 

Ieana wasn’t it?

 

This dragon had dark green scales, a slightly lighter grass-like shade to its leathery wings and two very long, bull-like glittering gold horns that twisted slightly at level with its eyes.

 

Though her face was grim and Fleur was obviously trembling from head to foot, the Veela witch entered the enclosure with her head held high and her hand clutching her wand.

 

The same process started again…

 

Only instead of transfiguring a boulder into a dog or transforming herself into a wolf, Fleur pointed her wand at her throat before she began to sing.

 

The song was beautiful and sung crooning in a tone that reminded Hermione of how her mum would sing to her when she was young…

 

Hermione would pretend to have trouble sleeping sometimes to hear her a bit longer...

 

Then when she grew older, Hermione buried her loneliness in books...

 

Slowly, ever so slowly the Longhorn's eyes began to close. They would blink sleepily and then drift closed again.

 

Eventually, the dragon seemed to curl protectively around its eggs much like a mother dog and her puppies which would make things difficult for the Beauxbatons’ witch.

 

Fleur stopped singing words but continued to hum the melody loudly as she crept towards the dragon.

 

At one point, the dragon snorted a small jet of flame in its slumber, a finger of which started Fleur’s skirt smoldering but her humming didn’t alter as she calmly pointed her wand at the smoke causing water, not unlike that produced by the Aguamenti spell, to put out the weak flame before her skirt went up in flame.

 

 _“Oh, I’m not sure that was wise!”_ Bagman taunted.

 

Fleur merely shifted direction a little so she wasn’t directly in the path of the Longhorn's face.

 

_“Oh…nearly! Careful now… Sweet Merlin, I thought she’d had it then!”_

 

Fleur ignored Bagman as she continued humming and picking her way around the dragon towards its tail where the eggs seemed to be. She did nearly slip on the nest itself which prompted Bagman’s snide ‘careful now’.

 

Mal was mentally listing her arsenal of hexes, jinxes and curses to see if there was one that she could cast without being noticed on that creep Bagman.

 

Then finally Fleur reached into the nest plucking out a golden egg and held it aloft.

 

Out of her back came beautiful gold tipped white wings that she used to fly effortlessly away from the Longhorn even as the crowd erupted into applause once more…

 

An unfamiliar wizard, likely a healer emerged from the entrance to enclosure no doubt to ascertain whether Fleur was uninjured or not.

 

Meanwhile, Charlie and the other Dragonkeepers began to exchange the dragons once more while the judges conferred.

 

The dragon wasn’t revealed yet as due to a sort of curtain appeared to block their view once more.

 

Eventually, Bagman called for their attention.

 

Madame Maxime awarded Fleur a large 10 fashioned from pale blue and gold ribbons that emerged from her wand.

 

Crouch gave her a 9, Dumbledore a mere 7, Karkaroff a 6 and Bagman, the final judge gave her a 9 as well.

 

Which gave her a 31 out of presumably 50, not bad but Adrian was ahead by nine points…

 

Neville made a comment implying that his worry over Adrian had his attention diverted when Adrian received his score only to end up publically humiliated by his Gran.

 

Adrian appeared between Fleur and the next Champion, levitating Neville to Lady Longbottom’s sputtering horror and taking Neville’s seat so the shy Gryffindor was on Adrian’s lap.

 

Hermione now realised why he was so shy and easily upset, his Gran couldn’t keep a civil tongue in her head. She felt protective over Neville, as did Gary Pucey, a Second Year Gryffindor and Brecc, as Adrian’s best friend, of course, he would be upset.

 

Hermione’s anger chased away her fear for a while...

 

That is until she realised that the current champion was Viktor Krum and his dragon was the Catalonian Fireball...

 

That mean that Harry was last and the only dragon left was the Hungarian Horntail...

 

The dragon that Blaise said was the worst tempered out of all of them...

 

Oh Harry, hadn’t he suffered enough in his life? Why was he the most unlucky champion who drew the most dangerous dragon?

 

She began to panic and hyperventilate.

 

Mal pulled her closer and hummed a vaguely familiar tune in her ear ever as her hand caressed Hermione’s hip.

 

When the air filled with the sounds of dragon roars, Hermione sensed rather than heard Mal’s humming.

 

The closeness and comfort calmed her; Hermione was just starting to relax when Viktor snatched up the golden egg and held it above his head in a parody of his infamous World Cup Snitch Capture...

 

That was when Hermione began to panic all over again...

 

Bagman cleared his throat the gain their attention after the judges debated over scores in private and the Catalonian Fireball was exchanged for the Hungarian Horntail.

 

Madame Maxime was first of course and she awarded Viktor a 9…

 

Then came Crouch who bored awarded Viktor a mere 8, which had Brecc grumbling about the unfairness of it.

 

Dumbledore chose to give Viktor a 7 which was worse, but it was forgiven in light of Karkaroff granting Viktor a perfect 10.

 

Bagman was the final judge of course and he only gave Viktor an 8…

 

Which made Viktor’s total score a 42…

 

Hogwarts’ first champion had been bumped down to second place by Viktor scoring two points more...

 

Hermione might be distracted but that didn’t mean she hadn’t fathomed that Viktor actually communicated with the dragon and managed to get the Fireball to _give_ him the golden egg rather than stealing.

 

Brecc snorted, “Not bad at all, sorry Rafe but my Viktor just beat you by 2 points.”

 

Adrian stunned them by laughing, “Oh, I wouldn’t worry about that. It’s Harry you’re going to want to watch…”

 

Heads snapped towards them and Neville squirmed only to feel Adrian stiffen beneath him.

 

“Oh? And what do you mean by that?” Draco asked with a dangerous tone to his voice.

 

Adrian’s voice held a smirk, “Just watch, remember it was likely your idea Draco…”

 

Draco swallowed.

 

A piercing whistle blew one final time and Harry entered the enclosure.

 

Hermione’s hyperventilating increased five-fold...

 

No sooner had Harry entered the enclosure that menacing curtain came down…

 

And there was the Horntail, at the other end of the enclosure, crouched low over her clutch of eggs, her wings half-furled, her yellow eyes glaring at him. The Hungarian Horntail was a monstrous black dragon who was thrashing her spiked tail, heaving yard-long gouge marks in the hard ground.

 

The crowd was soon making a great deal of noise…

 

The mothers and other parental figures let out gasps of dismay…

 

After all, Harry was youngest of the Champions and clearly, he had the most dangerous dragon…

 

Adrian who was the next in age had also drawn a dangerous dragon...

 

Draco’s mother’s voice trembled, “Devious Morganna, he’s so small… how could anyone force a boy to compete and face a dragon…”

 

Harry’s voice was carried to them on the wind as he raised his wand and yelled.

 

“Accio Firebolt!”

 

There were a few moments of stunned silence…

 

Then Draco cheered.

 

Then wonder of wonders, just like they’d practised all day, zooming toward Harry was the Firebolt just like they’d planned. It was, of course, the very same broom that Sirius had given Harry and Hermione suspected him of that, only Harry’s godfather hadn’t cursed it, So Harry spent the whole of last term flying on it rather than a school broom and driving all of the Quidditch fiends mad with jealousy.

 

Harry leapt on it even as it stopped with such fluidity that the whole crowd began to murmur.

 

“A Firebolt? The Boy Who Lived is going to attempt to outfly a DRAGON?”

 

Harry kept going up and up.

 

“Has he decided to run away from the tournament then?” Bagman jeered.

 

They were all watching Harry who had stopped flying straight up, Harry had levelled off and began to look around the way he always had for a snitch but his eyes were peeled at the clutch of eggs that were between the dragon’s splayed clawed front feet.

 

Once they followed Harry’s line of sight, Hermione and Mal could see a bit of gold peeking out from the dark cement coloured eggs that Hermione knew were the Horntail’s actual eggs.

 

Then Harry dived straight down…

 

A familiar but heart-racing sight to those who had seen his antics during a Quidditch match…

 

The Horntail’s eye followed him; it was as if he sensed what it was going to do and pulled out of the dive just in time; a jet of fire had been released exactly where he would have been had he not swerved away…

 

“Great Scott, he can fly!” Bagman yelled in astonishment. “Are you watching this, Mr Krum?”

 

The crowd shrieked and gasped.

 

Draco snorted, “Of course he can fly! Youngest Seeker in a Century at all that…”

 

Yet Harry soared higher in a circle with the Horntail was still following his progress

 

Mal wondered if Harry had decided to make the dragon dizzy had become part of his ‘plan’...

 

Harry plummeted and Hermione shrieked in fear just as the Horntail opened its mouth.

 

Hermione’s hands flew up to cover her eyes and her nails dug into her face, she just couldn’t bear to look...

 

Mal felt a drop of blood trickle down her neck, she carefully pried Hermione’s hands from her face and placed them in her lap and covered them with her own. Retrieving her wand from its holster, Mal tended the wounds from Hermione’s nails.

 

Mal returned her wand to its holster, returned her right arm to Hermione’s waist and covered Hermione’s hand with her own to prevent her from hurting herself.

 

It had only taken a few heartbeats to mend the damage of Hermione’s nails so they didn’t miss much of Harry’s hair-raising dive.

 

Harry’s luck didn’t hold out completely, yes he missed the flames, but the tail came whipping up to meet him instead hitting him with all the force of a Bludger not unlike the one that broke his arm in Second Year.

 

Despite Harry’s last minute attempt to swerve to the left, one of the long spikes grazed his left shoulder and ripping his robes.

 

Hermione screamed again, Draco was cursing loudly, Professor Lupin growled, Neville was likely panicking in silence and Blaise was moaning in sympathy.

 

Even injured, Harry had zoomed around the back of the Horntail.

 

Despite Harry’s attempts to bait the Horntail, it didn’t seem to want to take off because she was too protective of her eggs. Though she writhed and twisted, furling and unfurling her wings and keeping those fearsome yellow eyes on poor Harry, it seemed to Neville that she was afraid to move too far from them…

 

Harry must have thought of something because he began to fly, first this way, then the other, not near enough to make her breathe fire to stave him off, but still posing a sufficient threat to ensure she kept her eyes on him. Her head swayed this way and that, watching him with her bright yellow eyes and her fangs bared…

 

Soon Harry was flying steadily higher. The Horntail’s head rose with him, her neck now stretched to its fullest extent, still swaying, like a flapping bit of hair that had escaped its pins…

 

They all watched as Harry rose a few more feet, and in response, the Horntail let out a roar of exasperation.

 

The Horntail had decided that while Harry wasn’t a real threat, he was an irritant, a bit like a fly, something she was longing to dispatch.

 

The Horntail thrashed again her tail, but he was too high to reach now if she tried. Furiously, she shot fire into the air, which he dodged…

 

Her jaws had opened wide showing numerous teeth like knives.

 

Then she reared, spreading her great, black, leathery wings at last…

 

and Harry dived.

 

Before the dragon knew what he had done, or where he had disappeared to, he was speeding toward the nest at the top speed of a Firebolt could go, toward the eggs now unprotected by her clawed front legs.

 

They could see that Harry had taken his left hand off his Firebolt, in a daring move that only someone who had seen Harry fly before could have expected…

 

Harry seized the golden egg, it was a daring flyby scoop. No sooner had he snatched up the egg, Harry was flying just as fast away as he had dove for the nest. 

 

He held up the egg in the hand that wasn’t attached to his own injured shoulder even as the brother of Hermione’s heart circled above the audience.

 

The Horntail was so enraged that all of the dragon keepers were racing into the enclosure to subdue it.

 

Healer Smythe who was the healer who treated Dean, Harry, Neville and Gracie earlier that autumn appeared with a white-faced Professor Snape who gestured sternly for Harry to land.

 

Harry’s face was filled with triumph and no fear despite the risks Hermione’s clearly insane best friend had taken.

 

Neville sagged in Adrian’s arms, “I hope I never had to feel like that again…”

 

Draco let out a wheeze of air as he took long deep breaths in an attempt to calm himself, “Me too…Salazar’s Cauldron…what flying…”

 

“Was that really your idea Draconis Lucius Abraxus Malfoy?” Draco’s mother thundered.

 

Draco glanced back, “He’s a great flyer! I wouldn’t have told him to take so many chances but facing a dragon at our age, what choice did he have?”

 

“A child shouldn’t be facing dragons! I’ll be talking to your father, I told him that Harry Potter was too young for this! Dragons! Of all the…” Lady Malfoy then drifted into icy silence.

 

Eventually, Bagman called their attention by clearing his throat. “Look at that! Will you look at that! Our youngest champion was the second quickest to get his egg! Well, this is going to shorten the odds on young Master Potter!” 

 

The cheers threatened to overwhelm them until Madame Maxime rose with her wand in the air.

 

Harry had just finished getting treated by Smythe as well as receiving congratulations of a sort likely from Snape, McGonagall and Hagrid…

 

Hermione snorted, “I hope Charlie keeps an eye on those eyes…”

 

Neville remembered his terrifying detention with Hagrid First Year because of some rumour about Harry and a dragon…

 

A silvery ribbon shot out of Madame Maxime’s wand; an 8…

 

Adrian wondered if that was because, like him, Harry had been injured…

 

Crouch and Dumbledore both gave Harry 9s…

 

Bagman stunned them by giving Harry a 10…

 

But Karkaroff’s 4 had Brecc muttering in some weird dialect that had Draco cringing even as he and Blaise started yelling at Karkaroff in loud likely vulgar language that was decidedly not English that had Lady Malfoy grabbed them by their ears.

 

Adrian snarled, “A 38? Only a 38? Are they crazy? That was brilliant! I doubt Brecc’s Viktor could do better!”

 

That left Viktor still in the lead with a 42, Adrian just behind him with 40, Harry had bumped Fleur down to last place with his 38 as opposed to her mere 31.

 

Neville sagged in Adrian’s arms, “I hope I never had to feel like that again…”

 

Draco let out a wheeze of air as he took long deep breaths in an attempt to calm himself, “Me too…Salazar’s Cauldron…what flying…”

 

“Was that really your idea Draconis Lucius Abraxus Malfoy?” Draco’s mother thundered.

 

Draco glanced back, “He’s a great flyer! I wouldn’t have told him to take so many chances but facing a dragon at our age what choice did he have?”

 

“A child shouldn’t be facing dragons! I’ll be talking to your father I told him that Harry Potter was too young for this! Dragons! Of all the…” Lady Malfoy then drifted into icy silence.

 

Eventually, Bagman called their attention by clearing his throat. “Look at that! Will you look at that! Our youngest champion was the second quickest to get his egg! Well, this is going to shorten the odds on young Master Potter!” 

 

The cheers threatened to overwhelm them until Madame Maxime rose with her wand in the air.

 

Harry had just finished getting treated by Smythe as well as receiving congratulations of a sort likely from Snape, McGonagall and Hagrid…

 

Hermione snorted, “I hope Charlie keeps an eye on those eggs…”

 

Given that Hagrid had already attempted to raise a dragon, it wasn’t unfathomable that he would again.

 

A silvery ribbon shot out of Madame Maxime’s wand; an 8…

 

Adrian wondered if that was because, like him, Harry had been injured…

 

Crouch and Dumbledore both gave Harry 9s while Bagman stunned them by giving Harry a 10…

 

But Karkaroff’s 4 had Brecc muttering in some weird dialect Hermione didn’t recognise but Mal remembered that Ayla Malfoy who was in her year had told Maia Greengrass that it was Wiltshire dialect. Brecc’s reaction had both Draco and his sister cringing even as he and Blaise started yelling at Karkaroff in loud likely vulgar language that was decidedly not English that had Lady Malfoy grabbing them by their ears.

 

Adrian snarled, “A 38? Only a 38? Are they crazy? That was brilliant! I doubt Brecc’s Viktor could do better!”

 

That left Viktor still in the lead with a 42, Adrian just behind him with 40, Harry had bumped Fleur down to last place with his 38 as opposed to her mere 31.

 

Hermione wasn’t really surprised by biased marks awarded by the judges...

 

While she was angry with Harry for his risky handling of the challenge, Hermione was also angry on his behalf because he hadn’t earned quite at many points as she thought he deserved...

 

To Mal’s surprise, Draco pulled away from his lecturing mother grabbing Neville and Hermione pulling them along after him.

 

Like Adrian, Mal had no choice but to let go swiftly or chance Hermione being injured.

 

Adrian apologised and took his leave so swiftly Mal was certain that he was trying to escape Lady Longbottom’s caustic tongue that was being used to grill about his intentions towards her grandson...

 

Mal nodded at Seamus’ family and hurried after Draco, Neville, Hermione and Adrian.

 

Mal was very quick due to her preference for combat and hiking style boots over trainers so she kept up with wolf Adrian quite well.

 

She growled slightly when she saw Hermione clinging to Harry but being mindful of his shoulder with Draco and Neville hovering behind her.

 

Mal saw the same jealousy she felt in her heart reflected in Draco’s eyes.

 

The flash of a camera increased her displeasure with the scene...

 

Mal tracked the camera flash only to find to her disgust that poison-quilled Skeeter and her dopey cameraman spying on them.

 

Adrian must have noticed them too because he gently pushed on Draco and Neville’s shoulders, “Come on, Harry and I have to go inside you know.”

 

Hermione reluctantly lets go of Harry, sniffling a moment before she launched into her tale of how Adrian, Fleur and Viktor faced their dragons on their way into the tent.

 

Mal skulked along the tent determined to keep an eye on that Skeeter, she could hear that Hermione had continued to chatter nervously as they took seats inside the tent and waited.

 

From her place outside the tent wall, Mal eavesdropped on the ‘announcement’ regarding the Second Task even as she waited.

 

The others all exited the tent to find Rita Skeeter waiting for them.

 

“A word from any of you?” Skeeter asked with her quick-quotes quill quivering over her levitating parchment.

 

Adrian and Viktor exchanged glances.

 

“Same as last time right Harry?” Adrian asked.

 

Harry nodded, “No comment.”

 

“Really? What about you Miss Granger? How long have you been dating Mr Potter?” Skeeter twittered.

 

Mal growled under breath and briefly considered how much fun it would be to petrify Skeeter to use her as a target for spell practice…

 

Hermione gasped, “Dating HARRY? You’re crazy; he’s like my little brother.”

 

“Mr Malfoy, how would your father feel about you fancying a Muggleborn?” Skeeter pressed.

 

Draco sneered, “I most certainly do not fancy Hermione Granger. I’ll leave that to her own Slytherin. Publish that outrageous lie and you’ll be out of a job. Good day, Miss Skeeter.”

 

Mal was torn between flinching, cursing and scowling at Draco’s pointed remark.

 

Adrian and Viktor did their best to herd the four Fourth Years towards the large group congregating on the edge of the lake waiting.

 

Mal sent a poisonous glare at Skeeter before sidling up to Hermione and was rewarded with a shy smile.

 

They headed back towards the group that comprised what was left of their seatmates.

 

Adrian’s family and Neville, as well as Brecc and his father, had to make sure that Adrian was quite alright after his bout with that Ironbelly.

 

Draco and his mother who warmly introduced herself to Harry at Draco’s instigation had to examine his shoulder.

 

Lady Malfoy seemed kind but firm as she gently chiding Harry for worrying her poor Draco which of course had Theo and Blaise snickering.

 

After Professor Charity assured herself that Adrian was fine, she had a black wolfhound on a leash looped around her wrist much to its irritation, she headed over to Hermione and Mal.

 

Hermione gasped and then snickered, was that Sirius?

 

Harry was completely oblivious to Sirius’ possible presence...

 

Professor Charity waved goodbye to her sisters and nephews before looping her arms into Mal and Hermione’s. “Come on then, I’ve got those needlework projects I promised. We’ll have a spot of chocolate or tea with biscuits while we try to forget that this horrible day actually happened.”

 

Hermione didn’t want to cause Harry problems because of her being a Mudblood and Mal didn’t seem like she wanted to spend another minute in company so they allowed their Muggle Studies professor to drag them off.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We hope you weren't too disappointed or upset with our choices. We had fun plotting how to make our own take on the Tournament as unique as possible. Thanks for reading!


	13. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

 

Hermione had already agreed to stay at Hogwarts for the holiday between terms because she’d shyly asked Mal to stay as her date to the Yule Ball.

 

They’d paid attention to the weather and had realised that it was far too stormy to consider walking into Hogsmeade so they’d escaped from the overly full castle to hide in the kitchen where they were given a table off in the corner.

 

Hermione was embarrassed when Mal took her hand, kissing it before resting their still laced fingers on the tabletop.

 

They sipped hot chocolate and discussed Ancient Runes that was a favoured topic between them because they’d met over a thick tome on the subject.

 

Hermione froze when Mal’s callused hand cupped her chin and pulled her into a kiss. Her eyes fluttered closed, and a soft moan fell from her lips.

                                                      

Mal pulled the shocked Gryffindor into her lap, her hand that had been holding Hermione’s slid to press Hermione’s mid-back.

 

Hermione was lost in the kiss, her face flushing pink.

 

Eventually to their mutual dismay, the kiss broke so they could catch their breath.

 

Hermione relaxed instinctively in Mal’s arms…

 

Mal rests her forehead on Hermione’s temple, caressing her lips with her thumb, “You’re so beautiful…”

 

Hermione blushed, “I’m not…”

 

“You are to me…”

 

Hermione felt safe and comfortable in Mal’s lap so she was content to stay there.

 

Mal held her gently as they sat there cuddling for lack of a better word.

 

XoooooX

 

Hermione was surprised to blink sleep from her eyes and find herself still in the kitchens.

 

A chuckle came from about her head that was cradled to Mal’s firm breasts, which made Hermione turn pink with embarrassment.

 

“Ah, awake? The elves were curious what we wanted for lunch. They have beef stew, fresh hot bread and tea already made but they’ll make anything you want.”

 

Hermione sat up gingerly, “I’m fine with the stew, no need to go to any trouble.”

 

“’s not trouble Miss Hermy, we’s supposed ta be of service.”

 

Mal seemed a bit put out when Hermione moved to the chair beside her, but relaxed when Hermione scooted closer so their shoulders were brushing.

 

It was a lot more intimate being alone like this, there was no real homework assigned unlike summer so unless they wanted to read ahead, they were free for a few weeks anyway.

 

The Yule Ball was being held on Solstice and they were looking forward to it.

 

Hermione was nervous, having never been to a real dance or having been on a date before.

 

Mal made her feel special in a way that didn’t come from being too smart, a gifted only child or the best friend of Harry Potter.

 

Mal saw just Hermione and that was enough, it made Hermione feel special...

 

Mal linked their hands and brought it up to kiss, “Thank you for spending the morning with me.”

 

Hermione coughed, “But I was sleeping...”

 

“It means a lot that you trust me that much...” Mal said quietly.

 

Hermione was quite tempted to consider hexing Mal’s birth parents for being so cruel as to withhold affection and to neglect Mal’s other needs.

 

Yet she was too Gryffindor to actually act on it...

 

Hermione really hoped that her parents would like Mal; it would hurt so much if they didn’t. Her parents’ approval meant a lot to her...

 

They spent the rest of the afternoon in the kitchens this time comparing their takes on various writers...

 

 


	14. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After last chapter's fluff it's back to angst?

Chapter 13

 

Hermione had been studying with Mal all day…

 

She had been tempted earlier to ask to join her in the kitchens but here she was at Gryffindor table.

 

Hermione was lucky to have picked the side where she could watch Mal but it was soon less important...

 

Given that they all had friends in Slytherin; they tended to switch who got to sit facing Slytherin. Whoever arrived first claimed it…

 

Neville smiled and sat down beside Harry but across from her, immediately filling his plate with food. Then he turned to Harry. “I was wondering, what does it mean now that you are now Professor Lupin’s ward? Do you get to live with him during the summer?”

 

Harry tilted his head and opened his mouth to answer but Ron beat him to it.

 

“He gets to be raised by a pair of disgusting poufs.” Ron spat.

 

Hermione watched as Harry groaned and rest his head against the table while Neville turned in his seat, glaring.

 

“That’s not what you were saying about Professor Lupin last year, Weasley.” He snapped, his resolve almost immediately dissolving when Ron stood up and approached him.

 

The ginger grabbed the hood of his robes half choking Neville as he snatched up Neville’s father’s wand from his pocket, holding it above his head using his height as a weapon.

 

Hermione was half-frightened; Ron usually only threatened violence but rarely followed through.

 

“Now I seem to remember a fat clumsy boy who said that he was afraid of the Heir of Slytherin because as an almost Squib, he might be thought unworthy of learning magic. I think poufs should be banned from learning magic, Slytherins too. The less of them knowing magic the safer we all are. I think I should make you an example.” Ron taunted after he’d grabbed Neville’s wand and pocketed it. Then he laid one hand on Neville’s nearest shoulder and ripped him off the bench at their mutual House table.

 

Hermione’s hands flew to her mouth, thinking, ‘Ron don’t!'

 

It was too late because a loud crack filled the mostly quiet air as Ron tugged and then threw Neville to the stone-flagged floor between Gryffindor and Ravenclaw where Ron immediately leapt on the stunned younger Gryffindor with fists flying and landing indiscriminately.

 

Hermione was horrified, why couldn’t she move? Why didn’t she try to stop Ron?

 

Neville was hurt and likely in pain...

 

Out of everyone, it was Fred who lunged out of his seat in an attempt to stop Neville’s fall and likely to pull him away from Ron but the older ginger tripped over the bench.

 

Neville must have landed painfully on the cold stone floor but covered his head as Ron’s fists came raining down.

 

“You’re sick bastards! You’re a curse on us all you damn poufs! Drag Harry down with you? Not if I can help it. Harry’s no pouf; he’s just easily tricked and starved for attention. Filthy, disgusting waste of space! Your parents would be disgusted by you. Stupid pouf, you’re an embarrassment to your family. Your own Gran can’t even stand you! Why don’t you do us all a favour and go die already?” Every one of Ron’s cruel words was punctuated by a punch.

 

It took Fred a while to catch his breath and to clamber to his feet but he’d landed face first on the floor in his valiant but unsuccessfully first attempt to get Neville away from Ron. His head had to be ringing as he stumbled forward and struggled to pull Ron away from Neville but the younger redhead was like a man under the Imperious, it was impossible for him to stop him. Normally, Hermione would have thought Fred could have stopped Ron but with his nose smashed flat and he looked like he couldn’t summon his usual strength…

 

Hermione panicked when she heard Fred call out for help because every time he caught Ron’s hands, the brat ripped them away.

 

“Ron stop! Fuck! Pucey! Montague! Give a bloke a hand! I can’t get him off!”

 

Ron had his thighs in a vice grip between Neville’s ribs and his hips, clinging tightly. He’d likely leave bruises but he didn’t seem to care. Every time Fred grabbed his wrists, he soon yanked it free and wasn’t slowed much in his attack.

 

Two wolves were running from the direction of Slytherin Table, the smaller familiar one had to be Pucey while the bear-sized wolf was tackled the smaller one shoving him towards Neville and away from Ron. Going by size the later wolf was clearly Montague who was now using his full weight to hold Ron down.

 

“Don’t move. I would love an excuse to rip your throat out, you uncultured lout.” Brecc called out over his shoulder as he shifted, “Rafe, your mate needs you. I’ve got this oaf.”

 

Fred sighed, rubbing his head and wiping the blood from his face, their Beater was still unsteady on his feet.

 

Hermione was shaking as she stumbled around the table, her eyes were filled with tears when she cast the episkey on Fred’s busted nose.

 

Montague and Pucey’s dogs were growling but the bear of a Chaser barked at them to stay.

 

Neville had yet to move or speak even as Adrian took him in his arms and tried to see how badly hurt he was...

 

Gary, Adrian’s brother finally woke up from his shock, scurried up to snatch up Gilroy and Apollo’s leashes, to keep them from trying anything foolish.

 

“I knew it! I just knew it! You poor dear.” Professor Charity said running down from the dais where the staff table was, “Winsome!”

 

An elf appeared, “Yes Miss Cherry?”

 

Professor Charity snapped, “Fetch Smythe, Septimus and Augusta! Hurry!”

 

Then she turned her fury on McGonagall, “Come on Minerva! Say something; you’re their Head of House.” She barked at George who had just entered the Great Hall, “Your twin needs an escort to the Infirmary. Brecc do you have Ron or should I order someone to assist you like Theo? Adrian do you need help with Neville?”

 

Montague kept one large hand flat on Ron’s chest to hold him down, he flicked open his wand holster with his other hand and touched it just long enough to cast the Incarcerous on the lout to bind him before turning to Adrian’s aunt. “I’ve got this idiot.”

 

Adrian didn’t look up from Neville’s face as he gently brushed the tears from his mate’s cheeks with his thumbs while cupping the Gryffindor’s face in his hands. “Shh, I’m here Neville. I won’t let him hurt you anymore.”

 

Adrian was so focused on Neville that he didn’t seem to hear his Aunt.

 

George hurried over to Fred; slinging one of his twin’s arms over his shoulders, “What happened to you?”

 

Fred coughed, “Dived to catch Neville, missed and landed face first on the floor. Broke my nose but Hermione fixed it.”

 

Theo appeared without warning and lifted Fred’s other arm to his shoulder, “We’ll get you to the infirmary.”

 

Charity moved closer to Adrian and Neville, “Adrian, we have to get Neville looked at by a healer…”

 

Montague threw the trussed up Ron over his right shoulder, “I’ll follow you.”

 

Adrian’s head snapped up and he snarled instinctively as if he sensed someone approaching him while leaning over Neville to protect him with his body.

 

It took a bit longer for her words to sink in, “Sorry Aunt Charity, I mean Professor. Have Healer Smythe and Lady Longbottom been called for?”

 

Professor Charity nodded, “I sent Winsome after Healer Smythe, Lord Septimus and Lady Augusta. Do you need help up Adrian?”

 

Gary, Adrian’s brother hovered nearby looking nearly as pensive as Neville’s friends Dean, Seamus and Harry who stayed back reluctantly. 

 

Harry was clinging to Hermione’s arm in horror…

 

Hermione couldn’t blame him, she should have done something...

 

Why couldn’t she have helped Neville before? Why didn’t she argue with Ron instead?

 

Wait, why was Professor Charity the only professor upset with Ron? Professors Snape and Lupin weren’t here...

 

Neither was the Headmaster...

 

Mal appeared, wrapping her arms around ‘Mione’s waist and kissed her neck, “I’m sure everything will be fine. You did what you could...”

 

Blaise and Draco weren’t far behind; Draco hugged Harry while Blaise badgered Dean about what happened.

 

“I couldn’t do anything...” Hermione whispered.

 

“It probably happened really fast and Ron’s a bully with strength. He would have hurt you and wouldn’t have cared. He tried before...”

 

Hermione blushed, she remembered when Mal caught his fist and kept Ron from hitting her. She still didn’t know how Mal got there so fast...

 

They trailed behind Harry, Adrian and Draco with Blaise hanging back with Dean and Seamus...

 

Hermione and Mal were just behind them but before Fred who was helped along by George and Theo...

 

Professor Charity was explaining what happened when they slipped in.

 

Ron had been dumped on a bed carelessly while Adrian was slowly drifting back from Neville’s bed reluctantly to let Healer Smythe examine Neville who had yet to move or speak.

 

Hermione buried her face in Mal’s jumper, her face wet with tears. She felt so guilty for not trying to help sooner...

 

Neville had a broken leg and bruises everywhere practically...

 

Then Neville spoke but in a shaky whisper and choked with pain. “Wand…he took father’s wand…”

 

Mal watched with narrow eyes as Montague searched Ron’s bound form and retrieved the wand.

 

Only it was snapped in two, Mal wasn’t close to or even respected her birth parents. She couldn’t imagine how painful it would be to have something belonging to an absent parent stolen and broken...

 

Adrian promised to buy him a new wand and even offered his prefect apartment in Slytherin because it was closer than the Tower.

 

Hermione wouldn’t be separated from Mal...

 

Once they were certain that Adrian had Neville and Harry calm, Mal led Hermione to the kitchens where they proceeded to finish dinner.

 

Hermione found herself curled up in Mal’s lap, being fed alternating bites and over a huge slice of cheesecake they began exchanging frantic kisses.

 

Mal’s calloused hands rubbing soothing circles on Hermione’s back, sending her into shivers every time Mal brushed her bra strap.

 

A part of her, a shameful part of her wanted Mal’s hands on her bare skin...

 

Hermione clutched Mal’s jumper in her fists and returned every kiss.

 

Eventually, Mal all but carried her back to the Slytherin dungeons where they peeked in on Harry and Neville before heading up to the Third Year Girls’ dormitory...

 

 


	15. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

 

It was nerve-wracking to get ready for the Ball on her own.

 

Hermione was grateful that her mother had taken her to Westfield London where she’d gotten a personal make-up selection and was shown a fancy hairstyle that she was taught patiently to do herself. It was, of course, a good thing that with the exception of Ginny, that the only girls in the bathroom shared between the Third and Fourth Year girls, six girls getting ready was a lot easier than the usual ten.

 

Hermione had felt all the more excluded from Harry since Ron admitted to actually being the one to curse him out of a tree. Harry hadn’t even told her about that, he was so crushed that that final betrayal as well as how terribly hurt Neville had been only two days prior.

 

It was only through Mal’s support and friendship that she handled this.

 

Professor Charity had warned her that Harry would emotionally withdraw from their friendship and advised her that she had to be strong enough to handle it.

 

Hermione hoped that once Harry recovered from Ron’s abandonment and betrayal that they could return to their formerly close friendship...

 

Nervously she glanced at the mirror and was pleased to find her hair was smooth and shiny, glowing in the pinned flower, well rose really, that was on the top right of her head. The rest of her hair fell in soft curls.

 

The effect was quite stunning when paired with her smoky crimson eyes and flame dress.

 

Hermione felt almost beautiful as she followed her dormmates out of the dormitory and down towards the Grand Staircase.

 

Mal met her at the foot of the staircase.

 

Her friend’s eyes widened, Mal took her hand and kissed it. “I knew you were beautiful but...”

 

Hermione blushed, “I’m not...”

 

Lavender giggled, “Yes you are. Even I would have trouble making you prettier than you are right now.” Her eyes widened and she exclaimed happily, “DUDLEY!”

 

The blonde witch darted through the crowd and threw her arms around a boy who looked a lot like Harry’s Muggle cousin.

 

But Hermione was quickly distracted by Mal’s kiss.

 

She heard a giggle and when Mal broke the kiss, she opened her eyes to see Harry nervously holding Draco’s hand.

 

Charlie was there with Blaise, Theo with George and Greg with a blonde Ravenclaw that she vaguely recognised as Terry Bott, now that was a surprise...

 

Hermione and Mal followed the Champions in; Harry was led in nervously by Draco, Neville was on Adrian’s arm, Viktor Krum was with Adrian’s friend Montague and Fleur’s date was Fifth Year Carson Weasley whom Hermione only vaguely knew due their both living in Gryffindor Tower.

 

They shared a table with Dean, Seamus. Lavender, Dudley, both Patil sisters and their dates ordering from the plates using the menus.

 

Eventually, a sweep of a wand had the ice crystal tables moved against the walls of the Great Hall clearing the floor for a space for dancing.

 

Mal was surprised that Ayla Malfoy was joined by Blaise Zabini, and Pansy Parkinson as well as the elder Goyle siblings Giselle and Greg who were playing instruments.

 

Hermione watched as Adrian led Neville onto the dance floor, Draco brought Harry, while Viktor was led out by Brecc and Fleur was with Carson during the opening bars of music. 

 

The four Champions were to start the first dance but to be honest, only Adrian was the leading type.

 

Harry looked so nervous out there and only Draco’s experience kept him from looking as out of his comfort zone as he must feel.

 

Neville was raised in the same circles as Adrian and Draco so dancing was one of those things that they were taught.

 

As the first words began to fill the Great Hall, the visible nervousness vanished from Neville and Harry’s faces…

 

_I wanna dance like no one's watching me_

_I wanna love like it's the only thing I know_

_I wanna laugh from the bottom of my heart_

_I wanna sing like every single note and word it's all for you_

 

Unlike Mal, Hermione had also had dancing lessons when she was younger. Thanks to Charity, they had learned how to do the dances popular in the Wizarding world. It was easier for Hermione to learn but she enjoyed practising...

 

It wasn’t long before other couples were joining the Champions on the dance floor, despite her lack of experience with dancing Mal was eager to hold Hermione in her arms that way.

 

Hermione enjoyed the old fashioned waltz with Mal, she felt a special sort of warmth as she was whirled around in her girlfriend’s arms even if Hermione needed to lead a bit for the first song.

 

Waltzing to Ayla Malfoy’s soulful voice was like dancing to the voice of an angel who could see right into your soul…

 

_Not a day goes by that I don't think_

_about you and the love you've given me_

_I wish you could see it from this view_

_'cause everything around you is a little bit brighter from your love_

_Life is just so much better from your love_

 

Mal had never really cared about Ayla one way or another, having preferred to avoid her but her song was so perfect for her and Hermione. She was a better person for knowing her girlfriend…

 

The next song was about smiling and how someone could be saved by a smile…

 

Mal found herself appreciating Ayla all the more because her songs said what Mal couldn’t bring herself to say just yet…

 

The third song was introduced unlike the first two.

 

“Thank you, this song was written between two very good friends of mine who are like older sisters to me. I hope that you like this as well…”

 

Unlike the previous songs, this featured Giselle and Pansy singing harmony…

 

_There's something 'bout the way you look tonight,_

_There's something 'bout the way that I can't take my eyes off you._

_There's something 'bout the way your lips invite,_

_Maybe it's the way that I get nervous when you’re around._

_And I want you to be mine_

_And if you need a reason why,_

 

The words made Hermione want to cry, they filled her soul and choked her as she spun around in Mal’s arms.

 

The second verse was sung not by Ayla or Pansy but by Giselle whose contralto was quite different from Ayla’s gentle soprano…

 

_There's something 'bout how you stay on my mind,_

_There's something 'bout the way that I whisper your name when I'm asleep Oh girl_

_Maybe it's the look you get in your eyes._

_Maybe it's the way that makes me feel to see you smile._

_And the reasons they may change_

_But what I'm feeling stays the same._

 

The dancing Slytherins paused briefly; Giselle had never openly admitted her preference for witches before.

 

Mal admired her courage as well as the support from the other witches singing with her…

 

Blaise too had a solo to Hermione’s surprise…

 

_I can't put my fingers on just what it is that makes me love you, you baby._

_So don't ask me to describe, I get all choked up inside, just thinking about the way._

 

It was Ayla who sang out the last notes of the song…

 

_There's something 'bout the way you look tonight._

_There's nothing more to say then, I feel it in the way._

 

The last note was held out and it rose far higher by comparison to previous notes…

 

It was her last number that practically brought down the roof…

 

_I gotta take a little time_

_A little time to think things over_

_I better read between the lines_

_In case I need it when I'm older_

 

Given her age, the song was so appropriate for the young blonde…

 

Yet it was Blaise’s solo that made it hard for Hermione to not cry…

 

_In my life, there's been heartache and pain_

_I don't know if I can face it again_

_Can't stop now, I've travelled so far_

_To change this lonely life_

 

The words spoke to Mal as well, given her mother’s mistreatment and her father’s apathy before her rescue by Seamus’ family, to open her heart to Hermione took courage. If Hermione wasn’t such a sincere person, Mal would never have taken the chance...

 

Ayla’s eyes were closed, her voice rising with each breath yet it seemed to reach everyone.

 

_I wanna know what love is, let's talk about love_

_I want you to show me, I wanna feel it too_

_I wanna feel what love is, I want to feel it too_

_And I know and I know, I know you can show me_

_Show me love is real, yeah_

_I wanna know what love is..._

 

It was some time before her voice drifted into silence and she seemed weakened by the force of her passion.

 

Hermione watched as Charlie greeted Blaise with a passionate snog,

 

After a half a dozen songs from the quintet, there was a break for refreshments but mostly drinks.

 

Hermione thought it quite odd that Fred was lingering near the punch bowls with a suspicious demeanour.

 

During the refreshment break, a curtain went up on the conjured platform just after the Slytherin quintet made their way off the stage.

 

Eventually, their attention was recalled and the Ball’s real entertainment was introduced...

 

The Weird Sisters...

 

The more staid dancing from earlier was replaced by a more erotic form.

 

If one could call it dancing...

 

There was a lot of grinding...

 

Hermione could feel Mal’s smaller hard breasts rubbing against her back as well as her lower body rocking against Hermione’s arse.

 

Her temperature was soon soaring and she felt rather hot...

 

There was something off about that punch...

 

Hermione made a mental note not to have any more of it or to let Mal drink any herself...

 

XoooooX

 

Charity had slipped Hermione a piece of paper during the dance; Hermione pulled it out her dress bodice where she’d put it.

 

**_‘Hermione,_ **

****

**_In case you two want to stay together without going to each other’s dormitory here is the location and password to a student apartment._ **

****

**_Behind the girl and unicorn tapestry in the Tapestry Corridor is an_ **

**_empty set of rooms. You can’t be yelled at if you’re in there._ **

**_It's the holidays so no reason to get up early._ **

****

**_If you’re there I’ll have an elf bring you breakfast._ **

****

**_Charity’_ **

 

Arms slipped around her waist, familiar ones, “What is it Mione?”

 

“Charity?” Hermione held the note up so Mal could read it.

 

The music was turning more ballad as morning drew closer.

 

“She’s great that proff, thinks of everything. You want to?”

 

Hermione tilted her head back to look up at Mal, “Do you?”

 

“A chance to spend all night talking to you and holding you like this? Of course, I’d leap at the chance. I can’t spend the night in your Tower and you probably won’t want to come to the dungeons tonight…” Mal’s voice teased her skin.

 

Hermione shivered. “You’re right; it’s our only option…”

 

Then Mal turned her around, taking her face in her hands, “Hermione Granger, would you like to spend the night together?” Mal’s honey eyes were lit up with excitement and nervousness.

 

Hermione’s knees shook, “Yes?”

 

Mal kissed her softly before taking her hand, bringing it to her lips, “Then come away with me…”

 

“Yes…” Hermione breathed still shy and nervous but at home with Mal.

 

Mal led her up to the tapestry corridor on the Fourth Floor; they lifted the tapestry in question together and found an unlocked door.

 

Inside was a small common room/study, beyond that a small kitchenette and dining area.

 

Mal led her inside, letting the tapestry fall and the door close.

 

Hermione cast a locking charm on it.

 

They were alone, really alone…

 

Shyly, Hermione followed Mal to the settee.

 

Mal wrapped her arms around Hermione and kissed her, “You’re lovely…”

 

“Thank you for saying that,” Hermione said looking away.

 

“It’s true, I wouldn’t say it if it weren’t,” Mal said fiercely.

 

“Alright,” Hermione said quietly, still not quite believing her.

 

They cuddled and kissed some more, and then Mal’s hand alighted on Hermione’s breast.

 

Hermione moaned, as Mal’s touch burned through her gown.

 

“I want to touch you…” Mal whispered.

 

Hermione had just turned fifteen in September, but she knew Mal wasn’t turning fourteen until March. “We shouldn’t…”

 

“Age is just a number, Hermione,” Mal said seriously. “I’m only a year behind you.”

 

“I would like to let you ask me in March okay?"

 

“Being thirteen or fourteen won’t change anything,” Mal said stubbornly.

 

“I know, I just worry…” Hermione said quietly.

 

“If I can’t do stuff with you that I want, can we at least share a bed and cuddle?” Mal asked nervously.

 

Hermione smiled, “Of course.”

 

After all, technically they’d already done that before…

 

Mal stood up and held her hand.

 

When Mal held a hand out to Hermione, she grasped it and let the young Slytherin girl help her up.

 

They walked up the stairs hand in hand; surprisingly Mal was actually taller than Hermione who was about average.

 

Upstairs they found a comfortable double bed with an arch to the side that might have been a sort of nursery.

 

The idea of children was painful, without a sperm donor Hermione had little hope of them, no matter how much she wanted a family of her own. She had tried so hard to pretend she wasn’t gay even after finding out about Oliver and Percy. Percy had admitted that while it wasn’t illegal or culturally looked down upon, his mother wouldn’t accept it. He’d been caught by Ginny experimenting by kissing Penny but it didn’t feel right, he’d left Penny after he apologised, begged Ginny not to tell and found Oliver to whom he confessed to being most definitely bent…

 

While she knew her parents would be okay with it, Hermione fretted, they still expected grandbabies…

 

Mal found two silk dressing gowns, one silver with a green sash and the other gold with a red sash. Each tossed over chairs at dressing tables/desks on either side of the large bed.

 

Lying on the bed were two nightgowns…

 

The first was red; a crimson red; silk that fell in waves to the floor and the bodice was edged in lace with a lace panel over the stomach.

 

The second was plain black silk, which was all right for Mal though she preferred to sleep in shorts and an old t-shirt in the summer, jumpers and flannel trousers in the winter.

 

She wore clothes from the nearby second-hand shop until she had overbearing would-be relatives to buy things at the Hill of Tara.

 

Switching charms and they were wearing the new nightgowns…

 

Hermione flicked her wand and their dress robes moved to hang themselves up in the wardrobe.

 

Mal waved her hand and the duvet folded down, revealing silk sheets. “When the proff gives a hand, she goes all out…”

 

“These fancy nightgowns…” Hermione whispered, “Does she think it’s a honeymoon?”

 

“No,” Mal said quietly, “The proff thinks she’s our fairy godmother. We’re not turning into pumpkins because she made us a carriage to share.”

 

It was a very odd sentiment to come from Mal but Hermione couldn’t be arsed to care.

 

Then they were lying in the bed, which was surprisingly warm, then again there was a fireplace up here and it had a comfortable fire in it.

 

Mal pulled the duvet and sheets over them, before pulling Hermione close kissing her, “Happy Solstice…”

 

Hermione smiled, “Happy Christmas…”

 

The Solstice was two days before Christmas Eve on the twenty-second this year, so today because it was after midnight was one day closer to Christmas Day…

 

They had no classes at all since it was the holidays and well it was now a Sunday…

 

They could spend a long time up here…

 

They kissed, Hermione tried desperately to ignore the feel of the silk on her skin, or how her silk covered breasts felt pressed to Mal’s.

 

Eventually, Mal broke the kiss pressing Hermione’s head to her chest, “Sleep…”

 

Hermione closed her eyes; she’d always had trouble sleeping in strange places but this place felt like home…

 

There was something comforting about being held by Mal…

 

Though both were book fiends who often stayed up late, they fell asleep almost in sync.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The first song is Notes'n'Words by OneOKRock [translated], the third is The Way by Clay Aiken and the last song also by Clay Aiken is I want to know what love is.


	16. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hermal first Valentine's Day. While V-day isn't a truly magical holiday, both Mione and Mal were raised Muggle so this is an important holiday for them. For those who aren't keen on the 'femslash lemon' but interested in the couple I have included a warning so you can skip.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, Mione is fifteen and Mal is still thirteen. This is why Mione is hesitant to do too much sensual things, Mal is the more naughty of the two and Mione is trying to be the 'responsible' one.

Chapter 15

 

Hermione was happy that Dumbledore was suspended and that Moody was no longer teaching here.

 

They had Professor Lupin teaching their defence classes and charms classes.

 

Hermione had Aodhan Urquhart the Lazy Prefect teaching their Potions class while Mal had Adrian.

 

Draco’s Aunt had given the first Four years of Potions classes to Snape’s prospective apprentices.

 

George was teaching the First Years while Theo had the Second Years, likely to keep Adrian and Theo from teaching their siblings…

 

Harry had become almost as depressed and silent as Adrian; Adrian had taken to escorting Nev to class and walking him to and from the Tower to the Great Hall.

 

Hermione was sure it had something to do with the Tournament…

 

Harry had been shy after the Yule Ball but when they were together, Harry was all but in Draco’s lap. Draco’s arm was almost always on Harry’s shoulders with Harry snuggled into his side.

 

Hermione was only slightly jealous, luckily Mal was left-handed and she herself was right-handed. This meant that they could sit with Hermione’s friends and hold hands under the table…

 

While they didn’t share any classes, they still could meet up after classes…

 

Though they preferred to meet up on weekends to study together, so every so often, after leaving notes with Charity they would meet…

 

As much as others would enjoy visiting Hogsmeade, Mal and Hermione weren’t ready for that step. This didn’t mean that they were ashamed to be a couple but rather that they were more private people.

 

Hermione was a bit nervous; after all it was her first Valentine ’s Day with a lover.

 

XoooooX

 

Mal had talked Charity into having their special place readied for them: clean sheets, a sort of indoor picnic, butterbeers instead of champagne, chocolate covered strawberries and their pretty nightgowns from Yule Ball.

 

They’d left their dress robes here and walked back to their dorms in comfortable clothes.

 

Jumpers and dungarees…

 

They slipped away Mal from her house and Hermione from her friends, planning on meeting in the Tapestry corridor.

 

Sure it was a school night but neither cared, having finished all their homework early.

 

Mal got there first; she looked around and then slipped in.

 

She found their picnic laid out in front of the downstairs hearth, on a rug.

 

Vases of cream violets, ferns, daffodils, white asters and narcissus were on nearly every horizontal surface.

 

Mal had ordered a few witch romances as well as books on how to have a satisfying relationship with another witch, both of which said romance was the key to a successful relationship. That and communication…

 

Mal smirked, slipping upstairs she removed her school robes and put on the nightgown and wrapped the robe around herself.

 

Then she unbraided her chestnut hair letting it fall to her shoulders glancing in the mirror of the dressing table. Satisfied, Mal returned to the downstairs area just in time to see Hermione walk through the door.

 

The bushy-haired girl must have used a bit of the sleek-easy hair potion because it looked more manageable and soft.

 

Hermione blushed, “Oh my…”

 

Mal smirked, “Didn’t expect this then?”

 

Hermione glanced around, “When Charity said it was covered…I didn’t expect this at all.” She flushed, “Should I…go change too?”

 

Mal stepped forward, taking Hermione’s hands in hers; “Please?” she took her girl’s school bag, “I’ll set this on the table alright?”

 

Hermione nodded, “Okay…”

 

Then she scurried up the stairs to the bedroom.

 

XoooooX

 

Hermione noticed the bed turned down, the chocolates on the pillows; the nightgown laid on the bed the same as before.

 

Shyly she undressed, leaving only her panties on as she pulled the crimson silk nighty over her head; she sat at the chair on ‘her’ side of bed’s dressing table, toying with her hair nervously.

 

Pausing to pinch her cheeks and bit her lips before standing to put on the robe. Hermione took a deep breath and made her way down to rejoin Mal.

 

Mal’s eyes lit up when she stepped into the living room/common room, “Beautiful…just as beautiful as I remembered…”

 

Then Hermione was pulled close and kissed until her knees were weak.

 

“Sit with me will you?” Mal asked.

 

Hermione blushed, “Um…alright…”

 

Mal pulled Hermione down to the floor.

 

The moment they sat down on the rug before the hearth, the Lumos-lit lights dimmed and previously unnoted candles burst into flame.

 

Hermione gasped, “Oh my god.”

 

Mal was stunned to see a tear slid down her cheek, she reached up to brush it away, “What is the matter ‘Mione? Did I do something wrong?”

 

Hermione shook her head sniffing, “No, it’s wonderful…so wonderful. How did you find the time to do all of this?”

 

“I didn’t have to,” Mal frowned, “I talked to Charity and she put it together for us.”

 

“Our fairy godmother again…” Hermione said quietly, her eyes scanned the room and finally noticed all the flowers. “Flowers…you filled it with flowers…”

 

Mal followed her gaze. “I read that they had meanings I wanted to say something with them…”

 

“Tell me? What are you saying with them?” Hermione curious but her face was flushed.

 

Mal coughed, “February’s flower violets for faithfulness and modest worth; ferns because it’s your name and also because it means sincerity; March’s daffodils for friendship, new beginnings and happiness; September’s white asters for love, patience, faith and wisdom but the narcissus was in honour of our date to the Yule Ball and it means sweetness as well as desire. Roses are alright but they’re overused and I didn’t you know want to be just another person with roses… “

 

Hermione sniffed, “Mal…they’re wonderful.” She hugged the slim Slytherin girl tightly, “It’s like poetry…”

 

Mal swallowed, “Was thinking love letter but poetry works.” A gentle look filled her normally masked face,

 

“Her breast is fit for pearls,

But I was not a `Diver' -

Her brow is fit for thrones

But I have not a crest.

Her heart is fit for home -

I - a Sparrow - build there

Sweet twigs and twine

My perennial nest.”

 

“Emily Dickinson…” Hermione gasped.

 

Mal grinned kissing her nose, “I thought you’d recognize it.”

 

Hermione said quietly, “Don’t be upset but…

 

Tell me,

Was Venus more beautiful

Than you are,

When she topped

The crinkled waves,

Drifting shoreward

On her plaited shell?

Was Botticelli's vision

Fairer than mine;

And were the painted rosebuds

He tossed his lady,

Of better worth

Than the words I blow about you

To cover your too great loveliness

As with a gauze

Of misted silver?

For me,

You stand poised

In the blue and buoyant air,

Cinctured by bright winds,

Treading the sunlight.

And the waves, which precede you

Ripple and stir

The sands at my feet.”

 

“Anna Seward.” Mal said thoughtfully.

 

“I collect female poets…” Hermione said quietly.

 

“Mione you are utter perfection. I speak of pearls and crowns but you compare me to Venus rising from the foam.” Mal said kissing her, “I will take the compliment. You must be hungry…” she reached for a piece of Bruschetta, “here…”

 

Hermione hadn’t been expecting to be fed, her heart pounded in her chest as she opened her mouth.

 

As they began to eat, soft almost orchestral music filled the room.

 

There was Brie, Comte and a pesto sauce with toasted walnuts, green apples and baguette slices; Camembert cheese cubes with pear tomatoes; Croque Monsieur sandwiches, grapes, Bruschetta and of course no Valentine’s picnic would be complete without chocolate-covered strawberries.

 

Shyly, Hermione let Mal feed her and fed her girlfriend back.

 

The fuller they became the more they were distracted by kisses.

 

“Mione…my sweet…Hermione…” Mal whispered against the Gryffindor’s lips.

 

“Mal…oh Mal…you didn’t…”

 

“Have to what?”

 

“Go to so much trouble…” Hermione squeaked.

 

“It wasn’t any trouble.” Mal said brushing Hermione’s honey-hair from her face, “It was a pleasure to plan this for you.”

 

“I…”

 

Mal chuckled, “You what?”

 

“I didn’t do anything like this for you…” Hermione said sadly.

 

“You can plan my birthday.” Mal said with a smile, “I’ve never had anything nice for my birthday besides my Hogwarts letter…”

 

“How terrible…” Hermione gasped. “Why?”

 

“Isabel didn’t approve of having a witch for a daughter. She didn’t want to deal with the fact that I really aged. The older I got the more chores I had rather then gifts.” Mal shrugged. “As for my adoptive relatives, I never really told them when my birthday was.”

 

“How can you be so nonchalant about it?” Hermione sniffed.

 

“I’ve had years to get use to it…not being wanted. The moment I turn seventeen Bryan promised I could leave.” Mal shrugged. “My first memory was of them talking about me; Isabel thought I was a devil’s child and wanted me to be prayed to be healed. Bryan had to tell her his parents were magical. She didn’t take it well. Bryan offered to try to get his cousin Mary to take me in but she closed the door in his face. My grandmother died before he could ask her to take me in, he did tell her I was a witch though…”

 

“Come home with me…” Hermione said fiercely, “You’ll be welcomed there. My parents would be happy I finally brought a friend home. I can’t invite Harry and well you know about Ron…”

 

“Narrow-minded, lazy, selfish git.” Mal spat, “At least Harry seems a decent sort. Salazar knows our Prince has his heart set on him.”

 

“I think they are cute…going from rivals to lovers…it’s like a fairytale.” Hermione said quietly.

 

“You’re a romantic, I think that’s sweet.” Mal kissed her.

 

Hermione moaned, wrapping her arms around Mal’s neck.

 

“Bed?” came Mal’s breathless voice.

 

Hermione blushed, “Yes?”

 

Mal stood and lifted her up in her arms.

 

Hermione squeaked, “Mal! Warn a girl before you do that!”

 

Mal just laughed, “You’re cute when you’re startled.”

 

Then Hermione was being carried up the stairs, clinging to Mal’s neck.

 

Then they were lying on the bed, Mal’s fingers in her hair.

 

“Happy Valentine’s Day ‘Mione.”

 

Then she was kissed again…

 

Mal opened her robe, caressing Hermione’s stomach through the lace panel and was rewarded with a sigh of pleasure. Mal’s hand went up to cup a breast, “Mione…”

 

“Mal…”

 

“A few weeks aren’t that important…”

 

“I don’t want anyone to think,” Hermione gasped.

 

“That you took advantage of me? When you’re clearly letting me do the seducing? Hush, just let me show you…”

 

“Show me what?” Hermione whispered.

 

“How beautiful you are and that you deserve to be cared for.”

 

“I want to let you…it’s too soon. We’ve only been friends a short time…”

 

“You think that kept Draco from sending Harry up to their dormitory with dazed eyes and bruised lips? They were still that way come lunch; he was practically floating. I want that for you, what if I promised not to take your nightgown off and that you didn’t have to reciprocate? This is about you, my gift to you.” Mal said quietly.

 

“You didn’t even get mine…” Hermione protested.

 

“This night is about you, it’s a full moon the second of the year. I want to show you how much I care. Please…” Mal’s voice was filled with want, desire and eagerness.

 

“If you’re sure…” Hermione whispered.

 

“Certain sure. You’re more precious then a vault of galleons and I want you to believe it.” Mal said firmly.

 

* Lemon begins *

 

Then her lips were on Hermione’s neck, leaving a trail of nipping kisses.

 

Mal’s black silk nightgown was hitched up, as she straddled Hermione’s waist, her sure hands kneading her girl’s breasts as she kissed Hermione’s throat and down her chest.

 

Her parents weren’t overly affectionate, mostly due to their work schedules so Hermione was touch starved. Mal’s hands were gentle but firm as they touched her sending shocks to her core, making her breasts ache and her nipples hard.

 

“Is it…good ‘Mione?” Mal asked quietly.

 

“Yes…yes…” Hermione gasped.

 

Mal bent down slipping a thigh between Hermione’s legs, rocking it against her core while she nudged the lace aside to bare a nipple. Sticking her tongue out, giving it a tentative lick before taking it in her mouth giving it a long slow suck.

 

Mal’s mouth on her left breast, a hand on her right and the rocking pressure against her core had Hermione’s breaths coming in gasps. Then she let out a yelp and she felt herself drowning in pleasure, her body stiffening and the pleasure was so much she nearly fainted.

 

* End Lemon * 

 

While she recovered Mal was cuddling her, kissing her bare shoulders and neck, “So perfect…

 

Hermione wished she could reach out and return the favour, she felt so guilty about just taking…

 

“For my birthday…I’d like to hold your naked body to mine if I can…if not I understand you’re not ready. A bath, bed and dinner? Not necessarily in that order of course, your choice love.”

 

Something about Mal’s arms and the orgasm Mal gave her made her go right to sleep.

 

Mal watched Hermione sleep kissing her hair, they were real lovers now and that made her happy.

 

Hermione curled into her and Mal felt the rightness in their closeness.

 

Isabel would be even more distraught to learn that she was a girl lover, but Mal didn’t really care. She would never be accepted or wanted by her family so the only person who she needed to please would be herself.

 

Hermione just accepted her, told her to come home with her and offered to share her family with her. That meant more then any other gift her girl could have gotten her and the ability to make Hermione feel good.

 

Mal closed her eyes, holding Hermione close and let sleep embrace her.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The quoting will become part of their flirting given that they are so bookish.


	17. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

 

Two weeks after Valentine’s Day was the Second Task, distracting Harry from Neville and Draco’s absence was difficult.

 

Blaise was their friend that was the most upset about Draco’s absence after Harry…

 

This didn’t mean that Draco’s sister Ayla wasn’t upset but Hermione never heard her mention it seeing that they were in different years.

 

Mal on the other hand had, Ayla was pale and quiet when she wasn’t speaking in hushed tones to her best friend Maia.

 

As painful as it would be for Mal, Hermione almost wished it was her in that Lake. After all, fewer people would worry because of her absence…

 

They joined the rest of Hermione's friends on a very large blanket on the shore of the Black Lake.

 

Hermione saw George press a vial of what must be a potion into Harry’s hand as he walked past.

 

Harry’s smile trembled.

 

Blaise was clutching Charlie’s hand, Hermione was muttering under her breath in Latin while clinging to Mal’s arm. George and Fred were with their boyfriends Theo and Michael respectively.

 

Theo was, of course, ignoring that Urquhart was standing with Theo’s younger brother, Gryffindor Ned who had his liver-spotted Dalmatian.

                                                                                                          

Hermione thought the Dalmatian was called Nia and she was wearing the most adorable blue and black pet boots and matching coat.

 

Hermione wasn’t a dog person but the two made a cute couple with their fur baby…

 

They waited impatiently as the judges got around to explaining the nature of the Second Task.

 

Just as Hermione suspected; someone important to the champions had been taken: Adrian’s Neville, Viktor’s Yule Ball date Montague, Fleur’s shadow and presumed sister and of course Harry’s Draco.

 

They had an hour to find them…

 

They claimed a place on the shore, with Seamus’ elf arriving with a picnic blanket large enough for all of them. The picnic basket the O’Shanesey house elf had also had hot cider, chocolate, tea and coffee along with warm potatoes, rolls and biscuits to keep them warm.

 

Theo’s elf also had treats as well as did Urquhart’s.

 

They paired into couples with George in Theo’s lap, Michael in Fred’s, Shay in Dean’s, and Hermione shyly sitting next to Mal. Ned nervously crawled into Urquhart’s lap and Theo stiffened but George distracted him with a look that merely made the elder Nott scowl but he made no move to separate his brother from Urquhart.

 

It was nerve-wracking to wait.

 

Hermione became even more worried when an injured Delacour returned for treatment due to an injury that seemed to come from Grindylows only to be restrained from returning to the lake by Crouch and Bagman.

 

Hermione definitely creeped out by how Bagman was looking and touching the Beauxbatons’ Champion.

 

The former Professional Beater made her feel filthy, she wasn’t a blonde but she was a witch and he had hands where they ought to not be. It was disgusting that no one was calling him on his audacity…

 

They chatted impatiently with George and Fred taking turns casting the Tempus charm.

 

Eventually, it came within mere moments of the time limit of an hour.

 

Then out of the Black Lake and tied together with conjured rope were the three male champions.

 

Adrian had his wand out so he likely had cast the charm to propel them out. Shark-headed Viktor seemed to be but he had Montague and Delacour’s presumed sister.

 

Draco helped Harry swim to shore, it seemed that her friend couldn’t actually swim.

 

Had he been running on sheer nerve for over an hour?

 

She’d known not to underestimate Harry but that was proof of how Draco was important to him. As if she hadn’t noticed the glances at the blonde Slytherin since First Year… she just pretended she hadn't to avoid Ron noticing.

 

No sooner had they stepped foot on the lakeshore then their elves appeared with heated blankets and steaming mugs of liquid.

 

Adrian, Harry, and Viktor cast warming and drying charms on themselves and their boyfriends.

 

They were soon met on shore by Lord Montague, Lady Malfoy and Neville’s Gran the four hostages had their wands returned.

 

It took a while but then the judges through Bagman announced the scores.

 

“For returning within the time period Champions Krum, Potter and Pucey receive 50 points. For freeing the hostages with a severing charm and making sure that all returned in time via the ascendio charm Champion Pucey receives ten points. For rescuing his own hostage and Champion Delacour’s hostage Viktor receives ten points. For their auspicious gallantry, for they worked together to reach their goal, then waited to see if Fleur would appear and when she was clearly not coming, they then departed. Thus, all three will receive a further ten points. Finally, though Champion Delacour did not rescue her target but fell afoul of Grindylows, she did, however, cast a superior bubble-head charm thus we have awarded her twenty-five points.”

 

Fleur clung to her sister muttering, “I disurve nuthin’.”

 

Viktor and Adrian had been awarded seventy points while Harry had sixty.

 

Fleur remained the lowest score with a mere 56.

 

Leaving Adrian with 100 points, Viktor had 102 and Harry with 98; which left them in the same placement as the First Task.

 

Hermione, of course, had suspected the use of a charm to return on time and that Delacour had been attacked by Grindylows.

 

Hermione was torn between making sure that Harry, Draco and Neville were safe herself and recognizing that Harry and Adrian needed time to assure themselves that Draco and Neville were safe just as Viktor needed to do so with his Montague.

 

She saw Draco tug on Harry’s hand and gave up; clearly, they needed to be alone and Draco’s Aunt wouldn’t have turned her attention to the others if they weren’t alright.

 

It was a Friday and Hermione didn’t want to face Gryffindor right now so she asked Mal softly if they could return to their apartment.

 

Mal waved to the others and lead her away.

 

Hermione couldn’t bring herself to interrupt Harry and Draco, so she decided the best choice was to curl up in front of a fire with Mal…

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case, no one noticed this fic has been edited and reposted. My partner Ki and I are doing revision since it has been a while since we posted properly. We both picked a shorter story to get our bearings in the universe; Ki has Good Night Moon and I had Red Lily. I'm off to work on Lego House!


	18. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mal's birthday approaches and Hermione plans a very romantic weekend. Heads up- this chapter will feature girl/girl love (yuri)

Chapter 17

 

March 10, 1995

 

After how Mal had surprised Hermione on Valentine’s Day, Hermione felt pressured to prepare something just as wonderful for Mal’s birthday.

 

After nights of dreams of Mal making love to her, Hermione shyly was forced to admit that she wanted that badly.

 

So, she planned to cook a romantic meal for Mal; knowing Mal had never really had a real birthday Hermione wanted to make it special. Mal wanted her, Mal who had never really gotten any gift before had shyly asked for a bath, bed and dinner. Hermione had cooking lessons as a child; well, many lessons because her parents were busy. Eventually, they had hired a very accomplished governess because she had been far too advanced for even a school for gifted sstudents (geniuses). A private secret that Hermione hadn’t really mentioned to anyone for fear of rejection.

 

Instead of asking Charity to have the elves prepare it, Hermione gave her a shopping list.

 

Hermione had been slipping into their secret place all week to prep the food and put it under the proper charms so it would all be ready for Mal’s birthday.

 

Unfortunately, Mal’s birthday fell on a Sunday but Hermione had shyly planned a weekend celebration.

 

So she had seven meals to prepare but Friday’s was the most important.

 

Because she planned to give Mal her present early…

 

‘Why wait until Sunday,’ Hermione thought with a blush, ‘when we can have the entire weekend?’

 

Hermione had planned to relight Mal’s candles and ordered fresh flowers; the same flowers Mal had for their last big date last month. The idea of cooking for Mal made Hermione nervous…

 

Tonight they’d have Asian, after being treated so badly by her birth family, Hermione wanted to make life brighter for her lover.

 

They had Artichoke Wonton cups, tempura vegetables, avocado spring rolls and chicken pot stickers with ginger dipping sauce for appetisers. Followed by Miso soup and Chinese chicken salad for the soup and salad course. The main course was shrimp lo mein, shrimp because it was fancy and lo mein because who doesn’t like noodles? She even had homemade mango ice cream for dessert…

 

Hermione was setting the food on the table while casting the appropriate charms to heat the appetisers and soup while she left the salad alone aside from tossing it with the dressing and adding the almonds and wontons.

 

Hermione poured green tea for them both and fetched one fork and two chopsticks, she was willing to bet Mal didn’t know how to use the later but was alright with teaching her.

 

The best thing about her governess was the woman liked to experience cultures from their literature to their food. You could learn a lot about them by the way they ate…

 

Hermione plated her lo mein just as she heard the door to the apartment open.

 

Hermione was flustered, her hands were sweating.

 

Then Mal called out, “Mione?”

 

“In the kitchenette.” Hermione stammered back and she was grateful for magic because it levitated her platter to the table under a warming charm. It did land with a slight clatter so she took a deep breath.

 

Mal came in and got an eyeful of Mione in an apron with her hair braided. She whistled, “You cooked?”

 

Hermione blushed, “Yes?” she squeaked.

 

Mal chewed her lip; “No one’s ever cooked for me before…house elves don’t count.”

 

Hermione swallowed, Mal had on tight jeans and a green silk shirt that hugged her curves.

 

Mal stepped forward and kissed Mione hungrily.

 

Hermione seemed to struggle not to swoon, and she reluctantly had to break the kiss. “Dinner.”

 

Mal blinked, “I came because Charity said but…my birthday isn’t until Sunday…”

 

Hermione wrapped her arms around Mal’s neck, “Happy birthday Mal.”

 

Mal blushed, “You’re going to spend the entire weekend with me?”

 

“I’ve got food and meals prepped for it, seven meals worth. I do hope you did your homework,”

 

Mal kissed her and cut off her speech, “You wonderful witch, Salazar help me, do you know how much I love you?”

 

Hermione shivered, “Not yet but I’m sure I’ll know by Sunday…”

 

Mal swallowed, “You… do you mean it?”

 

“Have I ever said something to you I didn’t mean?” Hermione frowned.

 

Mal shook her head.

 

“Good, now dinner first and we’ll see about that bath you asked for.”

 

“How am I supposed to eat thinking about that?”

 

“Think of it as dessert,” Hermione said sweetly, pretending not to notice how the idea of a bath with Mal was affecting her…

 

“Such a tease.” Mal gave her a long-suffering look but her eyes were beaming.

 

Hermione took the seat next to Mal’s at the small table after she pushed her girlfriend into it. “Help yourself.”

 

Mal winked at her, “Why don’t you help me?”

 

Hermione turned pink and daintily picked up her chopsticks and used them to pick up a potsticker and dipped it into the ginger sauce before offering it to her lover.

 

Mal opened her mouth and let Hermione feed her, tentatively biting the odd offered treat. To her surprise, she liked it and ate it quite happily.

 

Hermione took Mal’s hand in her’s after setting down her chopsticks to pluck up Mal’s and shyly showed her how to use them.

 

Clumsily Mal used them on a tempura carrot slice and shakily offered it to Hermione.

 

Mione beamed at her and tugged the carrot free with her teeth to eat it.

 

They took turns with the appetisers before Hermione offered Mal soup and salad.

 

Mal preferred to enjoy her salad with her fork until it was time for the main course and clumsily, she offered alternating bites to Hermione.

 

Then shyly Hermione waved her wand and the dishes piled in the sink.

 

Mal rose getting the idea and took ‘Mione’s hand pulling her to her feet.

 

Holding hands they ascended the staircase to the upper floor, stepping into the bathroom

 

Hanging on the wall above the bath was a wrought iron ivy candle holder with tea lights.

 

Mal sniffed, “What is that smell?”

 

“The bath oil? I know the candles are rose scented and those are rose petals ,Charity insisted but…the bathwater is neroli and sandalwood. I have loofahs and French lavender-oatmeal soap…”

 

Mal cupped her face in her hand, “It’s alright, I love it. While I wouldn’t dream of giving you roses, I think this is perfect.”

 

Hermione clutched at Mal, whispering, “I’m glad you like it.”

 

Mal’s hands were behind Hermione undoing the apron, then she undid the girl’s dungarees, pulling her shirt out of its waistband and unbuttoned the blouse. Kissing her way down ‘Mione’s exposed skin, “Beautiful.”

 

Hermione moaned softly as Mal kissed her right nipple, her hands divesting her of both her panties and dungarees leaving her naked…

 

Mal kissed Hermione as she ran her hands over his girlfriend’s ample breasts, “I will enjoy worshiping your body carrisimi. I am a bene placito.”

 

[Beloved]

 

“At one’s pleasure? At mine? I am giving myself to you as your present…” Hermione whispered.

 

“Believe me pleasing you will more than satisfy me. Cor ad cor loquitur carrisimi.” Mal said as she lifted Hermione and gently slid her Gryffindor into the hot water before stripping herself.

 

[Heart calls to heart]

 

Hermione had of course due to sharing a dormitory with four other girls and a large bathroom with nine, seen other girls naked but only Mal really made her heart pound and her breath stop.

 

Mal had no sooner joined Hermione in the tub that it expanded to fit them both comfortably. She pulled Hermione into her lap and used one of the loofahs to drizzle and squeeze water over Hermione’s body.

 

Hermione moaned at the feel of water rushing and teasing her skin.

 

Mal kissed her neck nuzzling as she worked up a lather with the fancy soap before covering Hermione’s firm breasts with her hands kneading to cover them with soap.

 

Hermione threw her head back groaning.

 

After massaging the soap into those pretty breasts, Mal ran questing hands over Hermione’s taut stomach and her sides.

 

Hermione’s breasts ached and she wanted Mal to fondle them again…

 

Mal’s breasts were smaller and harder but they too had taunt nipples and an ache. Mal kissed Hermione’s throat, “You can touch me if you want…”

 

‘Want? Letting Mal have her way with her was one thing but touching Mal… that wasn’t to say she didn’t want to.’

 

“It’s alright if you aren’t ready,” Mal said before claiming Hermione’s lips again.

 

Mal’s understanding shamed her; Hermione lifted shaking hands to squeeze Mal’s breasts to find they fit perfectly in her small hands.

 

Mal groaned, “Feels so good…” her own hands still kneading Hermione’s breasts, “touching you is like a dream come true…”

 

Hermione shivered.

 

Reluctantly, Mal let go of Hermione’s breasts sudsing up her hands once more before caressing her beloved’s soft skin again. Once Hermione was covered in the foaming lather, Mal used the loofah to rinse her.

 

Soapy caresses and water pouring turned Hermione on all the more.

 

Mal gently took one of Hermione’s legs and washed it with infinitely gentle care. “I’d do anything to please you.” the Slytherin promised fiercely.

 

Once her legs had been washed, Hermione watched awestruck as Mal’s hand slipped between her legs cupping her sex. A single finger slid between her lips there and ran from behind her vagina to trace a circle over her swollen clitoris.

 

Hermione cried out and clung to Mal, “Oh God…” she’d never been touched like this before and Mal’s thigh on Valentine’s Day hadn’t felt like this.

 

Mal lapped at a nipple, swirling her tongue around it before taking it into her mouth.

 

Hermione groaned, “Oh…oh…”

 

Mal kept sucking on the nipple in her mouth, teasing it with her teeth as she ran two of her fingers teasingly around Mione’s vagina and over her clit.

 

Hermione felt on fire, “Mal!”

 

Mal used her soapy hands to wash inside Hermione’s sex just then and then reached back with her other hand to wash that rosebud and her perineum. Just before Mal took the neglected nipple into her mouth she asked, “Would you like to come here or in bed?”

 

Hermione could hardly think, could she last that long? She wanted that roar of pleasure…pink from head to toe she moved away.

 

Mal looked hurt.

 

Hermione leant into to kiss her, “This was supposed to be your bath and for your pleasure,”

 

Mal took Hermione’s hands covering her own breasts, “See how hard they are?” then she took one and wiggled ‘Mione’s fingers between the lips of her pussy. “Can you feel what pleasing you did to me?”

 

Hermione felt Mal’s clit was swollen and inside Mal was wet. “Oh…”

 

“You can wash me if you like carrisimi…” Mal blushed, “I would like that.”

 

With shaking hands, Hermione worked up a sudsy lather and nervously ran her soapy hands over Mal’s curves. She was highly aroused already and touching Mal in this intimate fashion made that feeling even more so…

 

Once Hermione finished covering Mal’s upper body with soap, Mal felt her girlfriend’s hand reach to wash her sex. She moaned softly, forcing herself to stay still when she desperately wanted to rock against ‘Mione’s hand and fuck herself with it.  


Hermione reached for the loofah to squeeze water to rinse Mal off.

 

Once she was ‘clean’, Mal stood pulling Hermione to her shaking feet, a flick of her wrist and the tub started to drain. Mal cupped Hermione’s face in her hands, standing there dripping as she kissed her girlfriend.

 

Hermione wrapped her arms around Mal’s waist, eagerly kissing her back, very aware of the feel of Mal’s wet breasts against her own skin.

 

Mal summoned a towel and gently dried Hermione before handing the warm towel to her lover.

 

Hermione took the towel and used it to dry Mal off as well.

 

Then Mal caught Hermione’s crimson silk nightgown, slipping it over her lover’s body.

 

Hermione blushed as she helped Mal into her own black one.

 

Then they left the bathroom hand in hand to find the bed turned down with pure white silk sheets waiting for them.

 

Mal pulled Hermione down into the bed so they laid side-by-side, ignoring her own needs she kissed Hermione gently as she embraced her with one arm and trailed the fingers of her opposite hand along her girlfriend’s arm.

 

Hermione relaxed immediately, not feeling pressured at all as she snuggled into Mal’s embrace.

 

Mal pushed one of the straps of Hermione’s nightgown so it hung off her shoulder, exposing more of the Gryffindor’s pale skin. Mal smirked to herself as she kissed and licked Hermione’s collarbone awhile before she nipped and sucked leaving a love bite there as a private claiming mark.

 

Hermione shivered and squeaked a little, her collarbone was clearly a bit sensitive.

 

“You’re so beautiful and brave…” Mal whispered as she kissed the love bite and nudged the strap so the top of Hermione’s breast was bare.

 

“You can touch them…” Hermione swallowed, “I like it when you do…”

 

Mal grinned as she pushed Hermione onto her back so she could more comfortably fondle her.

 

One hand was on a bare breast and the other was teasing her with the silk as they were both kneaded. Mal’s touch sent jolts of pleasure to her core and made her even wetter, the lack of panties made Hermione feel all the more naughty.

 

Mal licked and suckled on the nipple of Hermione’s bare breast as she rolled the other nipple in her fingers caressing it with the crimson silk.

 

Hermione gasped, “Mal, oh Mal…”

 

“Yes, carrisimi?”

 

“More…oh please…more…” Hermione begged.

 

Mal slid the other strap down so both breasts were bare to her viewing and touching pleasure. She slid to lay on her side, running a questing hand down Hermione’s lace-covered stomach to cup her mound.

 

Hermione rocked into her hand, “Mal!”

 

The silk was soon damp beneath her palm, not wanting to stain it; Mal sat up and drew the gown up Hermione’s thighs.

 

Hermione’s skin was sensitive now and the caress of the silk heightened her ardour. She eagerly lifted her bottom so Mal could pool the silk on her stomach.

 

Mal swallowed as the pale honey coloured mound was revealed, “Oh Hermione, carrisimi…” she gently spread Hermione’s thighs so she could lay between them, “thank you for trusting me…”

 

Hermione blushed, seeing Mal there was too much and it embarrassed her.

 

Mal licked her lips, “I want you so much…”

 

The desire in Mal’s voice had Hermione’s legs spreading instinctively.

 

“Please… touch your breasts for me carrisimi…”

 

Hermione flushed closing her eyes as she took her breasts in her small hands, she gave them a squeeze.

 

Mal used her thumbs to spread Hermione’s folds so she could get a proper look at her, her mouth went dry at the sight; her lover’s clit was swollen and her vagina glistened.

 

Hermione shivered as she felt breath there teasing her sex, “Oh…”

 

Mal leant forward and was rewarded with the smell of the fancy soap and the scent of her girl. She dove in, running her tongue from Hermione’s perineum to her clit.

 

Hermione screamed with wanton pleasure as Mal’s tongue, surely it was her tongue because of how warm and wet it was…

 

Mal grinned, moving her right hand so she could caress Hermione’s clit with her thumb and tongue her pussy. She tasted sweet and smelt of lavender.

 

“Oh…oh…oh…” Hermione gasped.

 

Mal had read how to pleasure a girl, it had required her, of course, to ask Charity to fetch the books but she’d read them eagerly.

 

Hermione was untutored in such things and Mal’s attentions tore a climax from her, she let out another high-pitched cry of pleasure as her body stiffened and hummed with pleasurable light.

 

Mal was rewarded with a gush of sweet girl cum that she lapped and drank eagerly humming in self-satisfaction.

 

Hermione slumped back on the silk sheets, starry-eyed and gasping.

 

Once Hermione’s breathing returned to normal, Mal smirked, “More carrisimi?”

 

“There’s more?” Hermione gasped out.

 

“Carrisimi we’ve barely begun,” Mal said smugly. “You’ve only tasted the pleasure of my mouth on your pussy, just wait until you’ve sampled my fingers.”

 

“Sweet Merlin, how will I survive that?” Hermione whispered.

 

“You’ll survive love because I still haven’t taken your cherry, so technically carrisimi, you’re still a virgin.” Mal sniggered.

 

The very idea of letting Mal play with her body like this and being still a virgin made Hermione giggle.

 

Mal slipped a finger inside Hermione’s pussy, to find and caress her g-spot.

 

Hermione squirmed when the finger entered and whimpered at the caress. “Mal!”

 

“More?”

 

“Yes…oh please…yes…”

 

Gently Mal slipped a second finger inside Hermione’s slick pussy, thrusting her fingers in slowly but taking care to stimulate her g-spot.

 

“Mal!” Hermione could feel her pleasure welling up inside as Mal used her fingers like that.

 

“You’re so sensitive carrissimi,” Mal whispered in awe as she bent to flick Hermione’s clit with her tongue her fingers never stilling.

 

“Oh…oh…” Hermione moaned.

 

“How many fingers do you want inside you before I let you cum?” Mal smirked, ignoring the trickle from her own dripping pussy.

 

“How many can you fit?” Hermione gasped out.

 

“You want me to leave your cherry for later?” Mal stammered.

 

“I don’t know…”

 

“Then I’ll leave it until you want me to take it.” Mal forced herself to promise, deciding that keeping it to three would be safest.

 

Then there were three fingers thrusting in and curling as they caressed Hermione inside, the slow gentle pace coupled with Mal’s teasing tongue on her clit made Hermione cum harder than her two previous climaxes.

 

Mal drank her cum and licked her clean before withdrawing her fingers from Hermione’s pussy and licked them clean.

 

Hermione looked up at her dazed and awe, “Mal…”

 

Mal moved so she could kiss her as she flicked her nipples.

 

Hermione was too spent to get wet again but she felt a familiar throb as they kissed. Then Hermione guiltily realised Mal hadn’t come yet, “I’m sorry…”

 

Mal frowned, “For what? I enjoyed pleasing you…”

 

Hermione pushed Mal over so she was on top of her, kissing her lover Hermione reached down to slip her thumb between the lips of Mal’s pussy to stroke her clit.

 

Mal gasped into their kiss, rocking up into Hermione’s shy touch. Mal had of course in the privacy of her bed in Slytherin experimented on her own body but she didn’t enjoy it half as much as this. She was so keyed up from pleasuring Hermione that it didn’t take much to make her orgasm.

 

Hermione withdrew her hand as Mal slumped back.

 

“You want to taste me or do you want me to lick your fingers?” Mal asked with closed eyes.

 

Hermione remembered how much Mal enjoyed tasting her and shyly brought her fingers to her mouth.

 

Mal opened one eye and groaned at the sight of Hermione licking her fingers.

 

When Hermione stopped she found herself pulled tight to Mal’s breasts and kissed hungrily.

 

“So sexy…” Mal said between kisses.

 

Eventually, Hermione yawned.

 

Mal reached for her wand and cast refreshing charms on them both before dropping it on the table on her side of the bed.

 

Hermione fell asleep cuddled to Mal’s small firm breasts.

 

Mal drifted off content that Hermione loved and trusted her…

 

XoooooX

 

Hermione woke first; slithering out of her Slytherin’s arms she straightened her nightgown, slipping her robe on and tied it. Not wanting to wake Mal up she picked up her slippers and tiptoed downstairs barefoot.

 

A fire was already burning in the hearth warming the room despite the chilly March morning.

 

Hermione set a pan of water to boil while she took out the pre-ground grain and dish of strawberries, the fresh milk was already on the counter for Mal’s coffee and cereal along with whipped cream for the strawberries and freshly squeezed orange juice as well.

 

It didn’t take long to make the cereal and pour it into the waiting bowls.

 

Once the tray was set up, Hermione tiptoed back upstairs, setting down the tray she crept back into bed and kissed Mal, “Wake up. It’s time for breakfast.”

 

Mal snuggled up to her, “Want to sleep….”

 

“I cooked.”

 

That woke Mal up at once; she blinked sleepily, “Really?”

 

Hermione smiled, “Really. Hot cereal, fresh strawberries, coffee for you and juice for me.”

 

“You’re an angel carrisimi,” Mal said kissing her.

 

Hermione blushed as she summoned the tray.

 

They both sat back against the headboard and ate their cereal snipping their preferred morning drinks before feeding one another strawberries dipped in whipped cream.

 

XoooooX

 

Hermione reluctantly woke up early Sunday morning, slipping away like she did the previous day.

 

Today’s menu was lemon ginger pancakes with lemon curd paired with cheese omelette with orange juice and coffee.

 

Hermione was shy; thinking about how confident Mal was about how much she wanted her was rather daunting…

 

She’d never given much thought to a relationship before, having never had friends until Hogwarts well Hermione had very little idea how most people interacted with one another. In fact, she never really bonded to the girls in her dormitory. They were just ships passing in the night who never really docked at the same port.

 

But Mal, they had so much in common. Mal was just as lonely as she was… despite their very different upbringing.

 

This weekend together, it was like a taste of heaven…

 

Could they really have a future like this? Would this relationship last? Did she want it to?

 

Her heart lodged in her throat and a sob escaped her lips, ‘if Mal left her…’

 

“Hermione? Are you crying? Did you hurt yourself?” then Mal’s arms were around her, “Talk to me. Are you alright?”

 

“I’m fine. I was just overthinking as usual.” Hermione swallowed.

 

Mal frowned, “What could you possibly be overthinking? Aren’t you happy?”

 

“Yes?” Hermione said tentatively.

 

“Have I done something you didn’t like? Did I push you too much?” Mal asked nervously.

 

“No, you’ve been so wonderful and gentle….” Hermione said quietly.

 

“But?”

 

“You’ve watched me for years, what if you wake up and decide I’m not what you thought?”

 

“You’re better than I imagined and we’re together Hermione, I want us to always be together. I’d love to live together and share quiet weekends like this after Hogwarts.” Mal said stubbornly. “Hermione Fern Granger, don’t you know I love you?” then she was turning Hermione around and kissing her fiercely.

 

Hermione melted as she always did, clinging to Mal.

 

“Let go,” Mal whispered.

 

Hermione relaxed and Mal brought her to a pleasant climax.

 

Afterwards, they shared a relaxing breakfast before Mal led her to the bath where she proceeded not only to bathe Hermione but also to make love to her again.

 

XoooooX

 

Today was Mal’s actual birthday…

 

Hermione had been so thoughtful, it made their private place all the more special.

 

Asian for Friday’s dinner, exotic cereal for Saturday’s breakfast, Mexican for yesterday’s lunch, Last night was Italian, this morning was lemon-ginger pancakes, they had an indoor Italian picnic for lunch…

 

“What’s this?” Mal asked curiously as she set the table.

 

“French,” Hermione said softly.

 

The soup was almost done, the salad chilled and the slices of oven-toast French bread with melted cheese were kept piping hot under a charm.

 

Cooking was a lot simpler with magic, nothing got hotter or colder than you wanted it to…

 

Hermione set her appetisers on the table; gougeres, Brie stuffed artichoke, buttery Brie and pear bites.

 

Mal whistled, “When you celebrate carrisimi you go all out…”

 

Hermione flushed, “I wanted it to be special…you made Valentine’s Day so wonderful I thought I had to do something special.”

 

Mal leant over and kissed her, “You exceeded my fumbling.”

 

“I.…”

 

Mal smiled, “Made this weekend so worth being born. I’ve never enjoyed a birthday before. All this great food, full of tastes I’ve never experienced before. A weekend long birthday party with the girl I love, what could be better?”

 

Hermione moaned softly as Mal kissed her.

 

Mal reluctantly broke the kiss, “Tell me what are we eating?”

 

“Brie stuffed artichokes, pear and brie bites but these are my favourite.” Hermione stammered, picking up a gougers, “A French cheese pastry.”

 

Mal let ‘Mione feed it to her, between bites at her girl’s insistence she sipped her juice.

 

“What do you think?” Hermione asked nervously.

 

“The juice since yesterday’s lunch, what is it?” Mal asked curiously.

 

“Grape juice blends that are essentially non-alcoholic wines?” HermMone replied with a shaking voice. “This one is Delacour Chardonnay.”

 

“A much better touch than my butterbeers.” Mal beamed.

 

“I like Butterbeer.” Hermione protested.

 

“When I think about how lucky I’ll be to have you in my life, I think I’m going to be the luckiest witch in the world. You’re my reward for my years of penitence.” Mal said entwining her hands with Mione’s.

 

Hermione blushed. “I don’t like thinking about you being treated badly.”

 

Mal grinned, “I’ve got good news. I forgot to mention it earlier but Seamus’ grandparents got custody of my brother and I. I’m surprised my Prewett relations agreed. I wonder if Lady Bethne browbeat them into it? The only stipulation was that we had to stay Prewetts…”

 

“You mean you don’t have to go back to your mother?”

 

“Isabel was never really my mother carrisimi, she just happened to have drawn the short straw and brought me into this world.” Mal shrugged. “Between you, Lady Bethne and Lord Killian I’ll be fine.”

 

They nibbled at the finger foods a while longer before a shy Hermione jumped up to dish up the French onion soup and drop the cheese toast over the top adding more cheese. Once the bowls hit the table, she returned for the salads pausing to check the Beef Bourguignon and potatoes au gratin.

 

They dug into the salad and sipped spoonfuls of hot soup.

 

Mal was overwhelmed at how much trouble…er time Hermione had put into her birthday.

 

Once dinner was over, Mal was surprised to find Hermione got up to fetch a white box, which she set on the table in front of Mal.

 

Mal frowned, “What’s this?”

 

Beaming, Hermione lifted the top off the box; inside was a cake decorated like a package it looked like it was wrapped in green paper with silver stars tied with silver ribbon.

 

Mal’s eyes filled with tears, “A cake?”

 

Hermione nodded, “Yes.”

 

Mal pulled her close for a melting kiss.

 

Hermione was surprised by the kiss but the heat of it sapped her strength.

 

“I love you carrisimi, thank you,” Mal whispered thickly when she broke the kiss.

 

Hermione blushed, “I found this cake place when I was in France. I thought, someday I want to get a cake there for the person I love.”

 

“It’s wonderful… I never had a cake but I always wanted one.” Mal whispered.

 

Hermione cut a thick slice and shyly began feeding it to both of them.

 

Once dessert was finished, Mal pulled Hermione up to their bed where she proceeded to make love to her girl to show how grateful she was.

 

XoooooX

 

Both girls woke up extremely early; it was Monday, which meant they had to return to their dormitories.

 

They showered together and dressed in the uniforms set out for them, likely by house elves.

 

Mal pulled Hermione close for one last kiss before they left their love nest. When she let go, Hermione was starry-eyed,  “Thank you carrisimi, this was the most wonderful weekend of my life and the best birthday I could have ever wished for.”

 

Hermione blushed, “I just wanted to make up for your terrible ones before and show you how much I love you.”

 

“You did, all you’ve done for me this weekend made you all the more dear to me. I love you Hermione Granger and I look forward to spending our lives together. Someday I want to wake up with you and know I’m the luckiest witch in the world because I’m your wife.” Mal said fiercely.

 

Hermione swallowed, “I’d like that, to be your wife and waking up with you every morning like we have would be wonderful. I love waking up and falling asleep in your arms.”

 

“We’ll have to have weekends like this more often. During Spring holidays we can have a week in here if you like.”

 

Hermione smiled up at her, “I’d like that.”

 

“I wouldn’t say no to your cooking…” Mal said hopefully.

 

“It will be revision time but I’ll see if I can prep everything ahead of time,” Hermione promised.

 

“I’ll hold you to it.” Mal grinned, stealing one last kiss before she had to slip away to line up for the march.

 

A stunned Hermione touched her fingers to her lips, her mind more full of their love making then classes. It was almost painful to leave this place…

 

But classes were important…

 

 


	19. Chapter 18

Chapter 18

 

April 14, 1995

 

About a month after their blissful weekend celebration of Mal’s birthday, they met Friday after classes, the weekend of what would be Muggle Easter holiday and the Celtic holiday Ostara.

 

Mal entered the apartment, hanging her school robe up on the coat rack with Hermione’s just inside the door.

 

She placed her schoolbag on their coffee table and went into the kitchen to find Hermione chopping vegetables for a salad.

 

Hermione beamed up at her.

 

Mal wrapped her arms around Hermione’s waist and kissed her cheek.

 

Hermione leant back, “Set the table?”

 

Mal grinned, “Sure.”

 

They’d got into a routine for lunch and dinner during Mal’s birthday weekend that when Hermione went to put the meal together, Mal would set the table.

 

They were intellectually well matched; they had similar interests and complimented one another.

 

This time Hermione served up a pot roast with red potatoes, onions, carrots, parsnips and turnips.

 

They only had one, maybe two glasses with dinner, they rarely finished one at lunch but it was more likely juice than non-alcoholic wine.

 

Hermione brought in the salad setting it in the centre of the table along with a flask of raspberry vinaigrette.

 

Mal caught her hand and pulled her in for a kiss.

 

Hermione moaned softly before pushing Mal away, “I’ve got to dish up the roast.”

 

Mal let go of Hermione’s hand and watched as her girlfriend dished up their dinner.

 

Hermione also served them more of that non-alcoholic wine with their meal, specifically a Delacour Cabernet Sauvignon.

 

Mal took a bite of pot roast and moaned, “Mmm…so good…”

 

Hermione blushed, “I’m so glad. I put it on during breakfast and checked on it between classes and during lunch. I’m not used to using magical ovens for pot roasts but thankfully, I picked up a magical cookbook. I learned how to make this in a crockpot…”

 

“Not to be confused with a crackpot.” Mal quipped.

 

Hermione giggled.

 

They ate together in companionable silence interlaced with light conversation…

 

Hermione finally dished up that ice cream she made last month.

 

They left the dishes in the sink for the elves before slipping upstairs.

 

The two girls stripped, slipping into a prepared bath. They washed one another, kissing and exploring.

 

There was still some of that French lavender soap that Hermione bought for her birthday so that was what they used to bathe one another.

 

Once they were clean, Mal pulled Hermione up to her feet and the heated towels waiting for them were used.

 

They dressed in their usual nightwear when they were together before they slipped into bed.

 

Mal slid a hand up Hermione’s back, cupping her neck, pulling her close and kissed her hungrily.

 

Hermione kissed Mal back just as eagerly, holding onto her.

 

Mal caressed her girl’s silk-clad body; they would have to study for exams beginning in the morning but for now, they had to rekindle the passion that lay in embers beneath the surface. It was difficult to keep from doing more than kissing during the school week but they were very scholastically focused.

 

Education always came first…

 

They were as deeply committed to their education as they were of each other…

 

Hermione cried out into their kiss as Mal’s thigh rocked against her core and a hand squeezed her breast.

 

The strong attraction between them made their passion all the hotter…

 

It didn’t take much get her Hermione to beg for more…

 

Mal used magic to remove both Hermione’s crimson silk nightgown and demure white cotton knickers.

 

Hermione lay there naked, letting Mal set her on fire…

                            

They took turns making love to one another before curling up together to sleep.

 

XooooooX

 

April 16, 1995

 

Hermione woke up early to make breakfast.

 

She hadn’t taken the time to prep meals like she had for Mal’s birthday but she had given a shopping list for Charity’s elf.

 

Todaym she felt like strawberry French toast…

 

Thank Merlin; the icebox was filled with enough food for ten days…

 

Hermione was about to drop the egg dipped toast on the griddle so that she could whip cream and slice strawberries when Mal appeared.

 

A pot of steaming coffee appeared on the table with a mug.

 

Hermione blushed, in her rush to make breakfast she forgot Mal’s coffee.

 

Mal chuckled, “Mione you don’t have to remember everything, that’s why we have house elves. I’m sure that if we set up house together that Lady Bethne or my Prewett relations would gift us an elf. Besides, I don’t mind saving your cooking for special occasions. If you taught me to cook properly as opposed to doing just prep work and clean up, we’ll be fine.”

 

Hermione relaxed after that, finishing up breakfast.

 

They ate in companionable silence, sending the dishes to the sink before they pulled out their books and notes to study for revision…

 

XooooooX

 

April 16, 1996

 

On Easter, Hermione was surprised when Charity’s elf appeared with a picnic basket.

 

Mal accepted it and then used the packing spell to put her school things back in her bag.

 

Hermione blinked.

 

“It’s supposed to be a warm spring day, I thought a picnic would be a good idea,” Mal smirked.

 

Hermione blushed, “You do love picnics…”

 

“Never had a reason to until you.” Mal shrugged, “They are supposed to be romantic…”

 

Hermione leant over to kiss her cheek, “And sweet…”

 

Mal turned pink, “That too, I suppose…”

 

Hermione packed up and then they went upstairs to dress.

 

They’d left clothes here before so it wasn’t hard to find something to wear…

 

Once they were dressed and fetched their school bags from their dining table that doubled as a study table, they walked out of their secret place with Hermione pressed tight to Mal’s side under her arm.

 

 


End file.
